


Darkest Before The Dawn

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Herne the Hunter AU, fairytale AU, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 56,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: Two years after the Great War, the circumstances force a widowed Clara Oswald to move back into her parents’ estate. Unhappy with the old-fashioned living arrangements and always looking for an excuse to evade her hated stepmother, Clara embarks on a quest to find out what she can about the urban myth revolving around the Hunter, a ghost figure haunting the forest at night. What she didn’t expect to find, however, is the myth to be real.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New year, new fic :) Hope you all had a wonderful start into 2019!

The car engine stuttered dangerously as the driver took another turn and drove along a stony path where, at the end, Clara Oswald spotted the unfamiliar manor. She would have to get used to calling it a home, but the few memories she had of the house were almost as old as Clara was herself and she couldn’t imagine that she would find happiness here in this strange place when she would have preferred to stay in London.

Sometimes, it seemed as if her life was nothing but a string of unfortunate events in which she had no say over the path her life was taking and as much as she wanted to blame it on something or something, Clara knew in her heart that maybe, she was just a very unlucky person. At the tender age of sixteen, Clara had lost her mother and even though she was old enough to understand that no one was to blame for the horrible accident, she wasn’t old enough to understand why her father had felt the need to replace her just two years later. The dislike Clara harboured for her stepmother, a cruel and money-grubbing woman, had ultimately driven her out of the house just before her twentieth birthday.

From the first day, her life in London had made her happy. She had gone to university and later taught a small class of the sweetest children Clara could have asked for. She had even found a man to marry and settle down with. But the war, the unexpected loss of her job and a fire had changed everything and robbed her of her love, her purpose and eventually, her home as well. Now, here she was at the age of just thirty-two, a widow, moving back in with her father and his second wife. 

Coco yawned and placed her head on Clara’s lap, tearing her out of her thoughts and away from her self-pity and she reached out to touch her pet’s ears as if to reassure her dog that her owner was still here. The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel had been a compromise between her and her late husband over five years ago and now, Coco was Clara’s most treasured possession. Danny had wanted no pets, Clara had wanted a cat - somehow, they had settled on a dog because, at that time, her husband couldn’t be persuaded to welcome a feline into their home. When Clara glanced at the manor again, she thought that at least Coco would be happy here. She would be in the company of other dogs and have the chance to run around in the garden all day long, something she would never have been able to do in the confined space of Clara’s old flat. When the car finally came to a halt in front of the house, Clara decided to hold on to that thought.

Her father greeted her with a broad smile from the top of the stairs and spread his arms even though she was too far away for a proper hug. “Clara!” he exclaimed happily as he ascended in her direction. “I thought maybe the driver had gotten lost somewhere.”

Coco jumped out of the car before her and started sniffing around the unfamiliar ground curiously while Clara was helped out of her seat by her father’s hand.

“No worries,” she replied. She had asked the driver to take a tour around London one last time before she left, knowing that she would miss the sight from now on. “We got here eventually.”

“Do you like the car?” her father asked, his voice almost brimming over with pride. It seemed to be a rather new acquisition.

Not knowing what to say, Clara merely smiled at her father. She had often missed him in London, but the thought of Linda had quickly blown away any trace of homesickness. Now, Clara would be forced to live with them, including her stepmother, and it made her heart heavy.

“Do you even remember the house?” her father wanted to know. The smile on his face seemed so honest and heartfelt that Clara had no doubt he was happy about her return, but she found it hard to conjure up the same excitement. If only she had found another teaching job, then she could have afforded a new flat and stayed in London.

“Clara?”

Her head shot around and she looked at her father who seemed to expect an answer of some sort. Slowly but surely she remembered that he had asked about the house.

As her eyes trailed over the large manor, Clara couldn’t help but admit that it was gorgeous - and that its size would certainly provide her with enough opportunities to evade Linda. Apart from the impressive building, there was hardly much else to be seen. Gardening didn’t seem to be Linda’s favourite pastime as the garden mainly consisted of a neat lawn and a couple of bushes. Behind it, there were only the trees of the forest that surrounded the estate. She wondered how long it would take her to reach the nearest town on her bicycle.

“Not really,” Clara responded eventually. “I was a kid when I last came here.”

Her father smiled his bright, warm smile. “Of course,” he replied. “You must be tired. Do you want to come inside?”

Clara nodded absent-mindedly and as her father led her inside, she tried to remember her first and last visit to this place, but her mind remained mostly blank. Her mother had been the wealthy one in her family and she had inherited this place from her parents. After her father’s death, it would pass into Clara’s possession, but that wasn’t a thought she liked to dwell on. What she couldn’t understand was why her father had brought Linda here - into her mother’s old house where she and generations before her had grown up in when they had owned a perfectly nice place farther north. It just didn’t seem right in Clara’s eyes, but then again, a lot of decision her father had made since marrying Linda didn’t.

Two maids hurried towards them as Clara entered the main hall and her father set out to introduce them. She only caught their names - Martha and Jenny - before her thoughts wandered off once again and she focused on the elegant and expensive looking interior. Even if Linda didn’t pay a lot of attention to the garden, she certainly had taken the time to decorate the inside from oriental carpets to heavy drapes and elaborate furniture.

“Where’s Linda?” Clara asked, interrupting her father’s explanation about which of the servants was responsible for individual tasks.

Once again, her father smiled. He obviously didn’t mind not being listened to. “She’s in the library, having her afternoon tea,” he explained quietly. “You can say hello later. Martha will show you your room where you can unpack.”

 

Not knowing what else to do, Clara agreed and they walked through the house in an awkward line: Martha leading the way with Clara right on her heels, Coco following after them and, a few steps behind, a young man carrying her suitcases. Luckily for Clara, the fire that had robbed her of her home had only damaged the downstairs and left most of her things undamaged. However, it would be a while until the smell of smoke had faded from her clothes as she soon realised upon opening the suitcase inside her new quarters.

Clara’s rooms were located at the far end of the house’s ground floor, far away from her father or Linda and she strongly suspected that her stepmother had something to do with that. Not that she minded very much. Her rooms were large and bright and opened to a small terrace overlooking the forest. It was quiet, almost too much so.

“Is everything alright, Miss Oswald?”

Clara turned around, looking at the friendly maid. “Mrs,” she corrected her softly. 

She wasn’t entirely sure why, but it seemed wrong to still use Danny’s name when he was dead longer than they had been married and if she was entirely honest, she had never really liked his last name. Yet she was still a widow and she didn’t like to omit the detail of having been married. Mrs Oswald seemed like the right choice until she thought of something even better.

“But you can call me Clara,” she said. It was highly inappropriate and Martha seemed to think so, too, judging by her raised eyebrows. “Please, I insist.”

“Are you sure?” the maid asked carefully.

In London, Clara had lived without a maid just fine and the idea of ordering someone around now seemed strange to her.

Clara smiled at the woman who seemed roughly her own age. “Yes, I’m sure,” she confirmed. “I haven’t had a maid in years and, to be completely honest, I need a friend more than I need a servant. And you can tell Jenny that applies to her as well.”

At last, Martha’s face lit up. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Yes,” Clara replied happily. “After I change my clothes, a tour of the house would be nice.”

“Consider it done, Mrs… Clara,” Martha replied. When she smiled, Clara knew that even though she would be living under the same roof as her stepmother, at least, she wouldn’t be alone.

 

The rest of the day passed quickly. Clara and Coco explored the large manor and the surrounding gardens under Martha’s guidance, they sneaked into the kitchen where Coco received a couple of treats from the dinner Jenny was preparing and then, they walked outside to have a look at the non-human residents. In the stables, Clara found four beautiful horses and the kennels held more than enough playmates for the curious Coco who sniffed at the other canines curiously. Maybe, living her wouldn’t be as bad as she had initially thought. Maybe, some fresh air and the change of scenery would actually do her good. When the time came for dinner, however, it was impossible to avoid her stepmother any longer.

“I hope the rooms are to your liking?” Linda wanted to know even though her voice betrayed that she couldn’t care less about what Clara thought of them.

“They’re perfect, thank you,” she replied politely before taking another spoonful of soup. She picked a carrot from the dish and dropped it under the table for Coco to lick up when no one else was looking, sure that neither her father nor her stepmother would approve of it.

“Your father was in charge of the decoration because I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

“Actually, that’s a task I handed over to Martha and Jenny. They’re around your age and they know better what should go inside a young woman’s bedroom than I do,” her father corrected his wife.

“Like I said,” Clara repeated, “they’re perfect. Martha and Jenny did a great job and they are both very nice.”

When a ruckus broke out in the kennel and the dogs started to howl, Clara raised her head to the large window and looked outside. It was dark for a late September evening and she couldn’t see what was wrong.

“Don’t mind that, dear,” her father told her. “They do this every night. That’s why our bedrooms are all on the other side of the house.”

 

But even in her bedroom, Clara could still hear the occasional howl mixed with all the other sounds common in rural areas. After years in London, she had almost forgotten about the foxes and stags and the noises they could make that varied so much from the car engines and the clattering of hooves on the cobblestones.

“Is there anything else you need?” Jenny asked Clara as she was preparing for bed. “We still have some of that cake in the kitchen if you want a bedtime sweet.”

“No, thank you,” Clara responded with a smile.

In the distance, a dreadful sound tore through the night and it made Clara flinch. She couldn’t tell why, but the noise seemed to make her heart skip a beat as the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was a deep, almost mournful sound and it took her a few moments to realise that it had only been another stag, but her reaction was enough to prompt Jenny to cross the room and close the window.

“It can get quite noisy during the night,” she explained with a polite smile, but underneath her friendliness, Clara could tell that the noise had startled the maid as well even if she was too polite to show it. Jenny’s hands trembled as she closed the curtains.

Clara merely nodded, but the strange sound was still too vivid in her memory to let it go. It was almost as if it had seeped right into her bones.

“You should sleep,” Jenny advised her. “You had a long day.”

Clara couldn’t help but agree with her and she swiftly crawled under the covers, Coco joining her in an instant. The dog curled up on the foot of the bed and when Jenny left the room, she switched off the lights.

 

In the darkness, Clara suddenly became aware of her unfamiliar surroundings, much more aware than she had been during the day. The smell that clung in the air was strange and fresh and suddenly, she missed the noises of the city. Even though her body was exhausted, Clara lay awake for a long time, listening to every crack, every hoot, every roar and the barking of the dogs continued throughout the entire night. Somewhere between all of that, Clara could have sworn she heard a rider galloping through the night and a shiver ran over her body.

Only when Coco finally crawled under the duvet to join her did Clara finally fall asleep. In her dreams, the sound of all the forest’s animals continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww, thank you guys so much for the first comments :) I'm so happy I already got you hooked on the new one!

The sunlight was violent and Clara squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t help to drown out the bustle in the room that told her the house had woken up. When even Coco started to move next to her and Martha’s voice filled the room along with the smell of fresh coffee, Clara realised that it was no use and decided to open her eyes.

“Good morning,” Martha announced happily as she opened the doors to the terrace to let the morning air into the room.

A thick mist had settled over the meadow and the damp coldness made Clara shiver and reach for her duvet. Nevertheless, the fresh, cool air felt nice on her skin and lifted some of her drowsiness.

“Morning,” she mumbled in response. It was all she could manage at that moment. When Coco moved to a heavy object on the edge of her bed, Clara finally noticed the breakfast tray and held the hungry dog back. The coffee smelled amazing, as did the fresh rolls, and the fruits looked more than inviting. She was starving. “The coffee better be strong.”

“Did you not sleep well?” Martha enquired.

After feeding Coco a slice of ham, she reached for the coffee and took a large sip, noticing with delight that it was just right between strong and bitter.

“It’s the noises,” Clara explained. “I’m used to hearing cars and people, not foxes and dogs and whatever that roaring sound was. And I could’ve sworn I heard horses, too.”

The maid froze on the spot and it was enough to make Clara raise her head and take a proper look at Martha who suddenly seemed a little frightened. It was nothing that she did or said, but her eyes widened just a little as if in horror. She was still drowsy from the lack of sleep, but the memory of Jenny’s reaction last night was vivid nonetheless. Something was frightening both women.

“What’s wrong?” Clara wanted to know.

“Nothing,” Martha replied a little too quickly and instantly set out to busy herself, but since Clara still hadn’t unpacked properly and the room looked pristine, there wasn’t actually anything for her do to. “You’ll get used to the sounds in a heartbeat.”

Still, Clara didn’t take her eyes off Martha as she attempted to straighten the duvet around her feet. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

“What are you and Jenny scared of?” Clara decided to be blunt. It seemed to be the only way to get some information out of her.

Martha uttered a nervous laugh. “We’re not scared. Why would we be scared?”

“That’s what I’m asking you,” she demanded. “A stag was roaring last night and Jenny started to trembled when she closed the window and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong? Are there wild animals in the forest? I’m sure they won’t come here.”

“It’s not that,” Martha responded. When she finally looked up, Maratha uttered a heavy sigh. “Mr and Mrs Oswald don’t like us talking about it. They say it’s nothing but a foolish superstition, a myth, and we shouldn’t worry about it.”

A frown appeared on Clara’s forehead as she listened to Martha’s explanation, but her curiosity was definitely sparked. She had always loved myths, even as a child and she remembered all those eerie bedtime stories she had made her mother tell her as an infant. At some point, however, her mother had stopped and Clara wasn’t sure why that was and why she could never be persuaded to tell her another ghost story.

Now, she would make Martha tell her.

“What kind of myth?” she wanted to know and took a bite off her croissant while Coco begged for another piece of the ham.

The maid hesitated visibly and Clara could tell that she was uncomfortable.

“Please, I’m curious,” she almost begged her. “I love a good story.”

Martha took a deep breath and looked straight at Clara as if giving her one last chance to change her mind about it, but that would never happen. Then, she began. “It’s a ghost story,” Martha said carefully. “They say the forest is haunted by a strange figure called the Hunter. He has the body of a man and the antlers of a mighty stag and he roams the forest at night on his horse which is said to be the fastest in the entire land. They say he talks to the animals and if you kill one that belongs to him, he will not rest until you’re dead.”

“What?” Clara asked, frowning at Martha. “So no one hunts in this forest?”

“Some have tried,” she replied. “But there’s a law now that forbids it. They don’t want to attract the Hunter’s anger.”

A soft shiver ran over her body, but Clara knew to blame it on the cold September air.

“What happened to the men who tried?”

Martha looked at her for a long moment but hesitated to speak. When at last, she opened her mouth, the door suddenly burst open.

Clara turned her head to see Jenny standing in the doorway, panting a little as if only just recovering from a run.

“Is something wrong?” Clara wanted to know.

Jenny inhaled sharply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt,” she spluttered breathlessly, “but your father sent me to tell you he’s readying the horses for a ride and he wants to know whether you’ll be joining him. He wants to show you around the area.”

Clara considered it for a moment, weighing the craving for fresh air against the recently learned ghost stories and she decided that a morning ride would probably do her good.

“Tell him I’ll be downstairs in half an hour. I’ll just finish my coffee and get dressed,” she replied with a smile.

Jenny nodded eagerly and then pointed at Coco. “Shall I take her into the kitchen to feed her?”

“That would be lovely, thanks.”

 

During the ride, Clara felt eager to ask her father about the urban myth surrounding the forest, but she could never find the right moment to bring up. At first, it felt strange to be back in the saddle, but she had been around horses for most of her childhood and it was easy to get the feeling back. The mare her father had chosen for her was a black Morgan horse named Ebony and she was gentle and seemed to sense Clara’s tension before answering with careful movements and reassuring neighing. Half an hour later, riding on Ebony’s back seemed as natural as walking.

As her father led her along the dark forest paths, the fog had finally lifted and Clara felt her thoughts trail off as she neglected to listen to what her father was telling her about the landscape. Martha’s tale was still on her mind and Clara looked around the forest curiously as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the Hunter even though he was nothing but the product of an imaginative mind. But where had the sounds come from last night? What about the rider she knew she had heard?

“Do people usually ride around the forest during the night?” Clara found herself asking.

Her father turned his head and for the first time, she took a proper look at him. He seemed to have aged since the last time she saw him even though it had only been a few years. David Oswald had visited after Danny’s death and made her the offer to move back home. Four years ago, Clara had declined because she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her job as a teacher and the flat she had shared with Danny.

Her father granted her a smile. “No, why would they?” he asked in return.

“Oh, no particular reason,” she replied. Somehow, Clara felt like he wouldn’t believe her if she told him.

“You shouldn’t listen to the maids’ tales,” her father said. “They say all sorts of things haunt the forest at night, but you know how locals are. It’s nothing but a silly superstition.”

Clara nodded absent-mindedly, but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened in the forest last night. It wasn’t just the sound of a horse she had definitely heard, it was the eerie quiet that had settled over the place as soon as they had entered the woods. She couldn’t see or hear a single animal.

“Clara, darling, are you feeling alright?” her father suddenly asked and there were traces of worry in his voice. “I know you only came here because you had no choice, but Linda and I will try our best to make this house your home until you remarry.”

“I’m never going to remarry,” Clara snapped back at him and instantly regretted her outburst. The Great War had left behind many widows and she knew of several women who had already found love again after the loss of a husband, but Clara couldn’t imagine that happening to her. Danny had been her first love and he would be her last. Even if she found another man, the thought about marriage scared her more than anything else. Even thinking about it felt like a betrayal.

“You’re still young,” her father told her in reply. “I understand if you don’t feel ready yet, but you might in a few years. Trust me, when your mother died, I felt devastated.”

“You found solace quite quickly though,” she barked. Clara hadn’t meant to make it sound like an accusation, but the words just came out like that.

David Oswald sighed audibly. “Linda can’t replace your mother. No one ever will,” he said softly. “But she makes me happy, she offers me companionship. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone and I don’t want you to. Even if you don’t find love again, I hope you will at least find a companion.”

Clara nodded slowly, thinking that maybe her father was right, but for her, it was too early to even think about it. And if she had a choice between being on her own and the male equivalent of her stepmother, Clara would rather die alone.

 

It seemed as if Clara’s plan to avoid Linda worked pretty well for most of the day, but when the time came for dinner, the family gathered in the large dining room and there was no way to get out of joining them. However, it also provided Clara with the perfect excuse to finally ask the question that had been on her mind all day long.

“Martha told me an interesting tale this morning,” she began, still chewing on a piece of salmon. “She said that according to an urban myth, the forest around the house is haunted.”

Linda snorted in response. “Oh, the Hunter,” she replied, her voice so full of disdain that Clara instantly felt as if she wouldn’t receive the information she wanted. “A scary ghost story to keep the people out of the forest and keep them from hunting where they have no business hunting. It’s rubbish, of course.”

“Martha and Jenny don’t seem to think so,” Clara retorted. “They actually seem a little frightened.”

“Good,” Linda concluded. “The story is working then.”

Knowing that she would get nothing else out of Linda, Clara turned to her father with a bright smile. “You know I’ve always loved ghost stories. Would you mind telling it to me?”

To her surprise, her father started to chuckle. “You’re not ten years old anymore, dear,” he said gently. “Besides, your mother had to stop telling you these stories because you started having nightmares about them. In fact, I’m fairly certain it started right here, in this house.”

Frowning, Clara continued to look at her father. She didn’t understand.

With a sigh, her father wiped his mouth with a napkin and when he placed it aside, he looked a little worried. “When you were a child, I don’t know, maybe you were six or seven years old, we stayed here for a few days and your mother told you the story about the Hunter, a demon or ghost creature that lives in the forest. You loved it, of course, you’ve always loved ghost stories. But that night, you disappeared from your bedroom.”

Clara listened to him intently. She couldn’t remember that incident at all.

“We were beside ourselves with worry,” her father went on. “When we found you in the garden, it was almost morning and you were shivering and telling us you’ve seen the Hunter. The doctors said you must have sleepwalked and had a nightmare. From that day on, your mother and I decided that we should no longer tell you these crazy tales when they were giving you bad dreams.”

“I don’t even remember that,” Clara replied, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Her father granted her a warm smile. “You were a child. Of course, you would get frightened.”

Clara nodded, but her mind was miles away and suddenly, she wished she could remember the days she had spent in this house, wished that she could remember the ghostly tale and what she had really seen in the garden. But she knew that she wouldn’t get the answers out of her father or Linda.

 

As she lay in bed that night, Clara listened closely to the sounds in the forest, but it wasn’t as noisy as it had been the night before. Maybe Martha was right and she would get used to the sounds in no time, but tonight, it was the absence of noise that terrified her even more. Just like it had been during the ride in the forest, the woods seemed almost dead and there was no sound apart from her own breathing.

Clara was already beginning to drift off when a roar sent a shockwave through her body and she felt the adrenaline course through her veins as she sat up. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and she was only beginning to recover from the startling sound when the clattering of hooves appeared. Then, the dogs started barking again. The forest had come alive once more.

Curious to see what was going on, Clara slipped on her morning room and slippers and walked to the door that separated her from the terrace. Coco followed after her even as she stepped out into the cool night air.

The moon was high and bright on the night sky and it illuminated the empty meadow in front of her, but the sounds still hadn’t faded. It was clear as day, the sound of a horse galloping through the forest and it was definitely not a product of her imagination.

Clara jumped up when Coco suddenly joined in and barked at nothing along with the other dogs. She tried to hush her pet when all of a sudden, as if possessed by a spirit, Coco sprinted away and darted across the meadow.

Now, Clara had no choice but to follow after her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments!!!
> 
> Now, Clara is forced to go into the forest at night. Will she figure out the secret? Or will she die like everyone else who tried?

The air was crisp and soon left Clara with a stinging in her lungs as she ran after Coco. Twigs snapped underneath her feet and the sounds of the forest were drowned out by her breathing while she followed her dog across the meadow.

“Coco!” Clara tried calling for her pet once again, but the dog wouldn’t hear. Something had happened, something strange had gotten into Coco because she had never behaved like that before. Right now, Clara wasn’t sure whether she should blame it on the dog’s instinct to hunt or whether the ghost stories the maids had told her might actually be true.

When Coco vanished in the undergrowth of the forest, Clara’s feet came to a halt on the edge. This morning, the woods had seemed dead. There hadn’t been a single sound, no call of an animal, no sound of a single bird and now, it seemed as if the entire forest had come back to life and for the first time, Clara felt scared to enter it.

She couldn’t quite explain what was keeping her away, but it was as if an invisible barrier prevented her from entering. Behind it, she heard the barking of a lone fox, the heart-shattering roar of a deer and the haunting call of a tawny owl.

“Coco!” Clara called out again, but this time, her voice came out hushed. She had no intention of disturbing what was going on inside the forest.

Her dog didn’t answer and she didn’t come back. Glancing over her shoulder, Clara looked back towards the house across the meadow and she could see the illuminated windows in the night, but she knew that she wouldn’t go back without her dog. That was completely out of the question.

Besides, she had stepped into the forest once before - as a child. Clara hadn’t remembered it until she had stopped at the line of trees and her memories were fuzzy at best, but as a child, she had left her room, the same room she was staying in right now, and gone to explore the forest at night. What had happened then, Clara couldn’t say, but no ghost had come to kill her and that was all that mattered.

Carefully, Clara lifted one foot and stepped into the forest.

The full moon was bright and provided her with enough light to see where she was going. What she couldn’t see, however, was her pet, so Clara followed the narrow path deeper and deeper into the forest. Something about it felt strangely familiar to her and there was only one way to explain the weird déjà vu: she had been here before, as a child. Her memories were unclear, but the further she ventured into the woods, the more she became aware of the cold air nipping at her skin and a sense of fear that she hadn’t known before.

Was that a memory as well? Had she been afraid as a child?

The owl hooted over her head and suddenly, it sounded like a warning. What was it trying to warn her about? Clara couldn’t say, but she felt her skin ripple in goosebumps as she moved on.  
Even though Clara had always loved a good ghost story, she had never actually believed in them, not even as a child. Yes, they had been scary, and yes, some had given her nightmares, but she had always been aware of the fact that they were nothing but fiction. Now, in the middle of the forest, Clara suddenly wasn’t sure anymore. There was something out there, something unnatural and inexplicable, something that was beyond the human mind to understand.

It was in everything. The cold air that she breathed had a strange tang to it that almost tasted like herbs on her tongue and when it touched her skin, it didn’t feel like cold air usually felt. It was more like an invisible hand reaching out for her, touching her, slowly guiding her way towards the unknown. What was she going to find if she followed blindly?

Further attempts to call for her dog proved fruitless and in the darkness, Clara was beginning to fear for the worst. What if she couldn’t find Coco? What if the dog had gotten lost? What if a wild animal had reached her pet before her? A hint of panic ran through her body like a slow wave and it had nothing to do with the eerie forest or the sinister calls of the owl above her.

Clara turned her head towards the animal in the tree and wondered if it was following her. Somehow, no matter which path she followed, the owl was always close and never taking its eyes off Clara, only occasionally giving a warning hoot. What kind of spell had been cast over this forest? Why was it so different than all the other forests Clara had visited before? Was there a truth behind the ghostly tales the maids believed in?

Despite her rational mind, Clara found herself wondering if something unnatural was the cause behind the strange air. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel natural. For the first time in her life, Clara actually felt scared.

Her feet came to an abrupt halt near a clearing and she held her breath, trying not to make a single sound. Right there in front of her was the strangest sight Clara had ever beheld with her own eyes. The full moon illuminated the spot perfectly with its milky, ghostly light and Clara beheld a creature unlike anything she had ever seen before. Her heart stopped for a moment and it was as if there was something deep inside of her that was desperate to break free, desperate to come out to the surface, but her mind remained completely blank as she stared at what was right in front of her.

Coco was there next to the animal that Clara thought had to be a stag, but the shape wouldn’t quite make sense to her in the dim light as it cowered next to her dog. There was something so odd about how it caught the light and once again, she thought that something was wrong because the longer she looked, the more it seemed translucent. It was dark and it was a shape, but the light still shone through somehow as if through a ghost. Maybe, Martha had been right after all.

Clara was torn between her fascination to watch and the urge to run for her life, but her feet just wouldn’t obey. Her heart was hammering, pounding in her chest, commanding the blood to her legs, but something had frozen her to the spot. She couldn’t move.

Then, slowly, the creature lifted itself up and Clara’s mouth fell open as she beheld the silhouette of a tall man. Yet it wasn’t a man at all because the antlers on top of his head were those of a stag and the light of the moon shone through him. It was then that she noticed the Hunter didn’t have a shadow. The stories were true.

His figure shot around before she could react and even though she couldn’t see them, Clara felt his eyes boring into her like daggers and a cold shiver ran down her spine as she realised she had been caught.

At last, the spell lifted and Clara broke out into a run. She didn’t pay attention to the paths, she just ran and ran and ran, desperately trying to escape the fate of those who had hunted in this forest. The fright was giving her an exceptional strength and she ran faster than she had ever run before in her entire life, skipping over fallen trees and evading bushes left and right while the ghostly steps of the Hunter followed after her. She was too scared to turn around, too scared to look at him and realised that he had caught up with her because as long as she didn’t look, she still had a chance to escape.

Clara knew that she had done this once before. The memories had faded over time, but they were clear to her now and if she could escape the Hunter as a child, she could do so again. Somewhere in the distance, between the tree trunks, she could already see the meadow that separated her from the manor. It wasn’t very far. If she was quick, she could make it.

A sharp pain shot through her ankle and Clara cried out when her foot got caught in the undergrowth. She tried her best to keep going, to regain her balance, but it was too late and her body hit the ground. The pain in her ankle was nothing compared to the agony that rang through her head as she hit something hard, but she had to keep going. Otherwise, the Hunter would catch up with her and then, she would be lost.

Fighting the pain, Clara turned on her back and when she opened her eyes, she stared right into the face. She tried to fight it, she tried to get up, but instead, everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your lovely, sweet, amazing comments!!! Sorry I forgot to post on Tuesday, but I was distracted by an evil stomach flu :(

Clara had never really thought about what it would feel like to die, but she knew it certainly wasn’t what she had expected. All the religions of the world told a different tale, but the blackness and the cold she felt all around her wasn’t paradise or reincarnation and the voices that managed to penetrate the darkness were not the voices of the deceased. She never saw or heard her mother or Danny and the light at the end of the tunnel always vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Quick, we have to take her inside!”

Somehow, it sounded like Jenny and what she was saying made sense to Clara even if she couldn’t quite grasp it. Inside was warm and safe and she was so very, very cold. The voices soon grew distant and the darkness engulfed her once more.

Clara wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the next time she heard another voice clearly enough to understand the words, it was an unfamiliar one.

“Someone should keep an eye on her,” it said, but when Clara tried to respond, she found that she couldn’t move. The pain had faded to a dull ache and the blackness was tugging at her, beckoning her to let go and just let herself fall.

Even though she hadn’t thought about what death would feel like, Clara decided that it wasn’t too bad, so she let go and fell into the endless dark.

* * *

Clara gasped when she woke up, sucking in a deep breath and instantly, she felt her heart pounding in panic. All of a sudden, everything was bright and the clicking of knitting needles was like a noise in her ears and she still couldn’t move, but there was one thing Clara realised immediately: she wasn’t dead.

Instead, she was in her bedroom and what was tying her to her bed were layers and layers of blankets all stacked on top of her. They were so heavy that Clara fought to free herself of them and by the time her arms had reached the top layer, Jenny had noticed.

“You’re awake!” she exclaimed happily, rushing to her side in an instant.

Clara was still confused and a little befuddled and the headache was only now beginning to reappear, but for some reason, Jenny started to tug her back in.

“The doctor said you should try to stay warm,” she told her. “I’m going to call for your father.”

“Wait,” Clara replied and was surprised at how weak and hoarse her own voice sounded. There was a strange itching in her throat. She swallowed, but her mouth was as dry as a desert. “Hold on.”

Something had happened. Clara knew that there was something she should be remembering, a reason why she felt so surprised to be alive. She should have been dead. She had thought she was.

Slowly, Jenny sat down on the edge of her bed and reached for Clara’s hand, squeezing it softly in a comforting gesture. She felt tired and confused and Jenny looked like she had the answers to the questions on Clara’s mind.

“What happened?” Clara wanted to know.

The maid inhaled deeply and granted Clara a sympathetic smile before she answered. Somehow, she gave off the impression that it was going to be a long, long story.

“A few nights ago, we found you lying on the meadow,” Jenny explained, her voice heavy and grave. “We don’t know how long you had been there and you were unresponsive, so we called for the doctor. He said you had concussed your head and twisted your ankle and you were suffering from hypothermia, so we brought you back here and wrapped you up in blankets to keep you warm. You slept for three days.”

Clara tried to focus, she tried to remember, but her mind remained mostly blank except for a few hushed voices and drifting in and out of darkness.

“I’m thirsty,” she noted. “And hungry.”

Once again, Jenny smiled at her. “I’ll bring you a cup of tea and some soup from the kitchen. And I’m going to call for your father. He will be so relieved you’re awake.”

Clara nodded absent-mindedly, but she still felt as if something was missing. Something wasn’t quite right.

Jenny rose from her spot on the bed and crossed the room, but when she had reached the door, the maid suddenly hesitated and turned around once again, watching Clara intently.

“Do you remember anything else?” she wanted to know. “Why did you go outside in the middle of the night?”

There had to have been a reason, Clara was sure of that, but right now, it simply evaded her. What had happened that night three days ago? And why was she having this feeling that something wasn’t quite right about it? Then, something suddenly occurred to her.

“Where is Coco?”

“She’s downstairs in the kitchen, stealing treats,” Jenny explained and a weight dropped off Clara’s shoulder. Coco was safe. Somehow, that seemed important. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, too.”

 

The soup arrived quickly, as did her dog, her father and Linda, all extremely happy to find her awake at last. Linda was the first to excuse herself and while Clara eagerly dug into her soup, her father repeated the same story Jenny had already told her. She had been found in the meadow with a concussion and a twisted ankle and she had slept ever since, waking only for short moments to have a sip of water and fall back asleep. Clara couldn’t remember any of it, nor did she recall the visits paid to her by the doctor, but she felt too tired to think about it any further. All she really wanted was to go back to sleep.

Sadly, Clara had no such luck because as soon as she had finished her soup, the doctor entered her bedroom and her father decided that it was vital to have her head and ankle looked at once again.

“Are you in any pain?” the doctor enquired after shining a torch into her eyes.

Clara shook her head. “I’m feeling fine,” she replied. “A light headache and tired.”

The physician nodded. “The headache will go away in a few days and your ankle will heal, too. It might still be a little tender when you try to walk. Are you still feeling cold?”

The soup and the tea had done a great job at warming her up, so Clara shook her head and insisted that she would be fine after a few more hours of sleep.

The doctor looked content with her response. “I have no doubt you will make a full recovery, but I need to warn you that it was a close call. You were very lucky they found you in time. By morning, you would have frozen to death.”

“Jenny said they found me in the meadow,” Clara replied. After the tea, her throat finally felt normal again. However, some details still didn’t quite make sense. “Any idea how I got there or where I hit my head?”

A hint of concern passed over the doctor’s face as he glanced at her. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “I can’t tell you that.”

Clara nodded understandingly. Still, she would have loved to know. “Thank you.”

 

Once the doctor had left and the maids had retreated to do her chores, Clara was finally able to lean back again. With Coco warming her feet, she sank back into her pillows and soon drifted off into a deep, long sleep.

However, in her dreams, she saw a face that was unfamiliar to her. It was the face of a man with hair so silver that it looked like it had been touched by the moon. The worry lines on his forehead were deep, but he still managed to grant her a smile. Above his head, between the set of antlers that were growing from his skill, Clara spotted the round full moon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and thank you for the sweet wishes :) I'm feeling much better now!

The next time Clara woke up, the sun had already set and her room was dark except for a lone candle on the other side. The headache had faded almost completely, but even after the tea and soup, Clara still felt hungry which, she supposed, was natural, given that she had slept for three days.

Along with the headache, the drowsiness had disappeared and by now, she remembered almost everything. Coco running off into the night, Clara following after her, the strange figure of the Hunter bending over her after her fall. He was more than just a ghost story. Clara had seen him.

The Hunter was real.

Carefully, Clara sat up in bed and wondered where she might be able to find something to eat at this hour when she spotted a vague shape at the other end of the room. Martha was slumbering uncomfortably in a chair.

“Martha?” Clara asked in a hushed voice. She felt bad for waking the maid, but at the same time, she really didn’t want her to spend the night in an uncomfortable chair and the realisation that both Jenny and Martha had probably taken turns watching over her for the last few days filled her with guilt.

The maid didn’t react, so Clara swung her legs out of bed and got up, instantly regretting her decision. Upon impact, a sharp pain shot through her ankle and reminded her to take it a little more slowly from now on. Clara suspected that it would feel better in a couple of days, but for now, she tiptoed across the room carefully until she was able to reach out and touch Martha’s shoulder.

“Martha,” she said softly.

The maid jerked up and looked at Clara in the darkness. It took her a moment to realise where she was and what was happening, but once she was fully awake, her face took on a rather concerned expression.

“Is everything alright?” she wanted to know.

Clara nodded. “You should go to bed,” she told her. “I don’t think I need a guard any longer.”

The words needed a while to seep through to Martha’s brain and the protest followed shortly after. “The doctor said to keep an eye on you and your father-”

“I’ll be fine,” Clara reassured her quickly. “I’m just going to get something to eat from the kitchen and when I come back, I want you to be in your own bed.”

Martha smiled at her in response. “How about I join you in the kitchen and I’ll go to bed afterwards?”

 

Knowing that she hardly had another choice, Clara agreed and the two women tiptoed through the house towards the kitchen, Coco eagerly following after them in the hopes of catching a treat. The longer she walked, the better Clara’s ankle felt as soon as she had gotten used to treating carefully. The headache was almost gone and thanks to her endless hours of sleep, Clara felt wide awake even though it was the middle of the night. Martha obviously didn’t share that sentiment because she was yawning all the way to the kitchen.

The entire house was asleep, so Clara tried her best to be quiet as she cut a few slices from the loaf of bread and set out to gather butter and cheese for a decent midnight snack while Martha made them both a cup of tea. The smell of food and drinks alone made Clara’s mouth water.

“I feel like I could eat the entire pantry,” Clara mumbled before she took a bite off the bread. Mumbling, she continued. “But I guess that’s what you get for sleeping for three days.”

Martha chuckled softly over her cup of tea. “The fact that your appetite has returned is a good sign,” she replied earnestly. “And you were right. If you can walk around the house, you no longer need anyone to watch over you. How are head and ankle?”

Eagerly, Clara bit into her snack once more and swallowed before answering Martha’s question. “Head is as good as new and the ankle will be in a few days, I suppose. But tomorrow morning, I need a bath.”

“That can certainly be arranged,” the maid told her.

When a silence settled over the kitchen and the only sounds that could be heard were Clara’s chewing, she suddenly started to consider something else. Since her memories had returned, Clara had thought about one detail in particular and somehow, it wouldn’t quite make sense to her. Martha seemed like the perfect person to ask, especially since she was the one who had told her about the Hunter in the first place.

“You said they found me in the meadow,” Clara began carefully. “Are you sure about that?”

Martha took a sip from her cup and the nodded. “Yes,” she replied. “Somehow, the dogs had gotten out of the kennel and they were causing a ruckus outside. They woke up the whole house. When we went to see what was going on, we found you a few metres from the house.”

Clara frowned at the maid in response. Even if she was certain, it still didn’t coincide with the memories she had of that night. Her story was a completely different one.

“I remember what happened now,” Clara state, her voice cautious. It was true that Martha had brought up the tale of the Hunter, but would she still believe her after Clara told her the entire story? “But when I fell and hit my head, I was still in the forest. I wasn’t anywhere near the house.”

A look of confusion appeared on Martha’s face and she took a long moment to have a sip of tea before she answered. “That can’t be right,” she remarked quizzically. “We definitely found you near the house. Maybe you managed to walk back after all and just forgot about it. I mean, you did have a concussion.”

“I saw him,” Clara blurted out before she could stop herself. Ever since she had woken up, she had felt this urge to get it off her chest and now, she was no longer able to hold it back. The entire story about how she had met the Hunter wanted out.

Yet Martha didn’t quite seem as shocked as Clara had expected her to. “Saw who?” the maid wanted to know.

“The Hunter,” Clara went on instantly. “I remember I went outside to listen to the sounds of the forest when Coco ran off. I followed after her and we went into the forest.”

“You went into the forest? _At night?_ ” Martha gawked at her as if she was suddenly surprised that Clara was still alive.

She nodded. “I found Coco eventually. And the Hunter,” she explained. “He saw me and I started to run back to the house. I could tell he was following after me and then my foot got caught in something and I fell and hit my head. But I saw him, Martha.”

The maid seemed incredulous.

“I saw the Hunter. He was bending over me and then everything went black,” Clara said. “The next thing I know is waking up in my bed, but I know I was definitely still in the forest when I fell.”

“You hit your head pretty hard,” Martha tried to argue, but Clara wouldn’t hear any of it. She hadn’t imagined the Hunter. Right now, she could still remember his face so vividly that given the right tools, she would be able to draw him from memory.

“It’s just a story.”

Clara shook her head. “You don’t really believe that. I know you don’t.”

Martha hesitated to reply and judging from the look on her face, she was considering her response very carefully. “The Hunter is evil,” she said after a while. “He punishes those who hunt in his forest and I know of people who went in there at night and never returned.”

“But I didn’t go there to hunt,” Clara retorted. “I just went to look for my dog and if I fell in the forest and was found in the meadow, then someone must have put me there. What if it was him?”  
Martha shook her head. “No, we know he is evil. That’s why everyone is so scared of the tale.”

Finally discarding her snack, Clara leaned forward just a little to look deep into Martha’s eyes, the only way she could think of to convince her. “I looked right into his face and yes, I was scared, but he didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me.”

The maid only raised her eyebrows in return, but there was a tiny spark of curiosity hidden in her dark eyes. “What did he look like?” Martha wanted to know, her voice careful.

A brief smile appeared on Clara’s lips and she couldn’t even say why she was smiling, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Martha at least wanted to believe her. “He looked almost ordinary,” she explained. “I mean, apart from the antlers and being half transparent. But his hair was like the colour of the moon and he had bright eyes, I think. There was something about his face that was curious or amused, I don’t know. I blacked out right afterwards.”

“You should probably get some more sleep,” Martha reasoned after her latest statement and it made Clara frown at her in return.

“I didn’t make it up and I didn’t imagine it,” she replied angrily.

The maid uttered a soft sigh. “Maybe you didn’t,” she said eventually. “But even if you’re right and you really saw him, you still need to regain your strength.

Even Clara couldn’t argue with that, but she sincerely doubted that she would find any more sleep tonight. After three whole days of it, she felt ready for action and by that she meant finding out everything she could about who the Hunter really was.

Tomorrow, after her bath, she would go out and explore and not even Martha’s doubt would stop her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww, thank you guys so much :) I'm glad you're all enjoying the story! And you're perfectly right - nothing can stop Clara once she is determined, except maybe her own stubbornness.

Only after stepping out of the bath did Clara feel human again, but her plan to do some research about the Hunter was quickly thwarted and by no other than her hated stepmother. Clara had only managed to get dressed when she turned around to find Linda standing in the doorway, an expression on her face that told Clara she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“Your father had to drive into town to take care of some business, but he will be back in the afternoon,” she explained. Something about it sounded rehearsed.

Clara nodded regardless of Linda’s tone. “Thanks for the info, but I wanted to go into the library anyway to read up on something.”

“Actually,” Linda threw in, “I have some people coming in to talk about the redecoration of the dining room. Your father said he would value your opinion on the matter.”

Her father didn’t care about her opinion any more than he cared about how the dining room looked like. As long as food would be served at the correct time, the look of the wallpaper and the arrangement of the chairs were of no consequence to him. No, what he truly wanted was for Clara and Linda to spend some time together.

Clara uttered a sigh. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine without me.”

“He insisted.”

With no choice left, Clara knew she had to postpone her research and instead followed Linda into the dining room. She certainly hadn’t lied about the decoration, because when Clara stepped into the room, she was immediately greeted by the sight of four men and the chaos they had spread over the table and chairs. Clara spotted so many colour and carpet samples, so many different wallpapers, suggestions for curtains and catalogues and wood examples that it soon made her head spin.

Her stepmother seemed completely undeterred and proceeded to talk about paint and furniture, but whenever Clara tried to get a word in, she was met with immediate disdain.

“I like the walnut for the table,” she said when one of the men asked her opinion. “But not the carvings. They’re a bit much.”

Linda snorted in response. “This is the dining room, not the kitchen. There’s a time and place for modesty, but it’s not where we receive guests.”

As soon as her stepmother had turned her back, Clara rolled her eyes, wondering why Linda even pretended to be nice when it was obvious she didn’t care about Clara’s thoughts at all. It was then that she realised Linda had probably only agreed to this as a favour to her father and if that was the case, she would be all too glad to be rid of her.

While everyone was preoccupied with a thorough discussion about curtains, Clara began to distance herself from the rest of the group and when she noticed that no one was even paying her the slightest bit of attention, she slipped out of the room and went upstairs to the library.

 

Out of every room in this house, the library was Clara’s favourite place. Covering almost a quarter of the estate, it was also the biggest room in this manor, containing all the books her mother’s family had collected over the decades along with the volumes her father and Linda had brought with them. Somewhere in here, she would find something about the Hunter, Clara was sure of that.

However, she was soon disappointed by the lack of order and had to call on Martha for her aid. The maid showed up a few minutes after Clara had rung the bell and instantly set out to help her find what she was looking for.

“I dust in here once a week,” Martha explained, “and I know I’ve seen a few books about the local history. If the story of the Hunter was written down, it should be in those volumes. If not, the nearest town has quite a nice library. I sometimes go there when Mr Oswald gives me leave.”

Clara chuckled. “You use your free days to read? I knew I liked you.”

Martha granted her a quick smile before she handed Clara the first book. “I know it sounds silly coming from a maid,” she said, “but I’m very interested in anatomy and medicine.”

“That’s not silly at all,” Clara replied. If Elizabeth Garrett Anderson could do it, Clara saw no reason why Martha shouldn’t be able to become a doctor.

“Here,” Martha said eventually and handed her two more volumes. “This is everything we have on local history.”

“Thank you so much.” She smiled gratefully.

“I’ll bring you a cup of tea and leave you to your research.”

When Martha turned to leave, Clara suddenly thought of something and called her back. She just had to know. “Do you believe me now?”

The maid hesitated and the look on her face was insecure as she exchanged a quick glance with Clara. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I believe you saw _something_ , but if it’s the Hunter, you got lucky.”

“Why?”

Martha took a deep breath, pondering her words carefully before she spoke. “When I was younger, I lived in the nearby village. There were a couple of boys, rascals, always in trouble for some thing or another. They decided to go into the forest and hunt a stag for a dare.”

The maid stopped, making Clara wonder how the story had unfolded, but judging from the look of horror on her face even after so many years, she could tell that the boys had not found a happy ending.

“A search party found them a week later.”

Clara eyed the maid with interest. “What had happened to them?”

Martha shrugged. “We don’t know,” she admitted. “Their eyes were open and their hair had turned completely white as if from shock. The official statement was that they had both died of heart failure, but the village people knew that it was the Hunter who had killed them. That’s when the law was passed to forbid anyone from hunting in the forest and no one in their right mind would go there at night.”

A shiver ran over Clara’s back as she listened to Martha’s tale and in front of her mind’s eye, she saw the boys, their eyes wide and their hair the colour of ash. Was that what should have happened to her? Somehow, Clara didn’t believe so.

“I’ll bring you a cup of tea,” Martha concluded with a smile. “The old chronicles make for some dry reading.”

 

As it soon turned out, Martha was right about the old chronicles. Between accounts of what building was erected at what time and how many students attended the local school each year, Clara had to look at every single page to find a mention of the Hunter and what she found was a lot less than she had expected. In the end, she learned nothing that she didn’t already know because what Martha had told her was the same that she found inside these books.

The Hunter was a ghost creature with the body of a human man and the antlers of a stag and he protected the forest from anyone who might cause harm. Interestingly, Clara soon realised that since this manor had been built on forest grounds in the 16th century, it should also fall under the Hunter’s protection, at least if she applied logic to the ghost tale. When the books warned repeatedly not to enter the forest at night, Clara soon found herself yawning because she had heard that warning many times before.

Clara didn’t even realise that she had fallen asleep when a soft hand touched her shoulder and she jerked awake and shot around to look straight into her father’s worried face.

“You should be in bed,” he warned her gently as he took a seat next to her. His voice was low and grave and Clara could only imagine how he must have worried over her these past few days.

“I’m feeling better,” she tried to reassure him, but it didn’t quite seem to work. “Just the ankle is still a bit sore. And I’ve certainly spent more than enough time in my bed.”

Breathing in deeply, David Oswald reached for Clara’s hand, holding it in his as if it were a piece of breakable china. “You gave us quite a scare,” he confessed. “For a moment, I thought I had lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” Clara said sincerely. “I didn’t want to scare you, but Coco ran out and I just followed after her and then I fell and hit my head.”

“You shouldn’t go out at night. It’s not safe.” His eyes fell on the open books in front of her and suddenly, his face took on a more sombre expression. He slammed the book shut. “And you shouldn’t chase after ghosts. It’s just a story.”

“But an interesting one,” Clara argued.

To her surprise, her father started to laugh. She had missed that laugh a lot and it was the first time she heard it since returning home.

“You are so much like your mother, do you know that?” he asked while the smile on his lips turned sad. “She, too, loved the story about the Hunter. I sometimes doubted she really knew it was just fiction.”

What her father said suddenly made Clara wary. Her mother had grown up in this place, she had grown up with the urban myth and since Clara knew that the Hunter was more than just a scary ghost tale, her mother must have known it, too.

Clara often missed her mother, but it was at moments like this that she truly wished she was still alive. Her mother wouldn’t have lied to her. Her mother would have told her the truth.

“I worry about you, Clara,” her father said, tearing her out of her thoughts. The smile had left his face. “I lost your mother and my biggest fear is losing you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she replied sincerely and bent forward to peck her father on the cheek. “Not unless we don’t eat dinner soon because I’m starving.”

Her father’s mood lifted at the mention of food and they went downstairs together. Even though Clara hadn’t learned much about the Hunter today, she had certainly learned that she shouldn’t share her enthusiasm with her father because he was never going to understand what she had seen in the forest that night. The Hunter was a secret best kept between her and Martha.


	7. Chapter 7

All the way across the meadow, the house was illuminated as if it was already Christmas. Almost every single room in the house was drenched in light all thanks to a rather recent invention called electricity, although the word _recent_ certainly depended on the point of view. The lights, however, gave the Hunter the opportunity to observe the family that had come to live in the house and had now brought their daughter home.

Many generations had already lived and died in this place and the Hunter had seen them come and go, he had watched them with curiosity just like he was watching the latest inhabitant right now.

Clara, they had called her when they had found her in the meadow and he knew that she had to be the same girl that had stumbled into his forest as a child only a short while ago. A short while for him, but not for Clara Oswald. In what seemed to be the blink of an eye, she had grown up to be a beautiful woman with dark, sad eyes.

From the edge of the forest, the Hunter could only watch, but he could never know her story, not in so many details as the people who lived with her, the people she smiled at and talked to.

The Hunter flinched when his companion flew across his head and settled on his antlers, claws wrapping around them to hold on tightly. Growling and narrowing his eyes, he looked up.

“What did I tell you about the antlers?” he demanded to know. The owl gave an annoyed hoot and moved over to sit on his shoulder instead. “Never sit on the antlers.”

Some people would call it a gift, the ability to talk to animals, but the Hunter wasn’t sure about that. Over the last centuries, they had been the only creatures he could talk to, but the novelty had worn off quite soon.

“Who is she?” the owl wanted to know.

The Hunter sighed. He could recall every name of all the people who had ever lived in this house even though he was on the verge of forgetting his own. “Clara Oswald,” he explained, his voice tired. The Hunter was always tired, most of all of his own existence. “She is Ellie’s daughter.”

The Hunter hadn’t used Ellie’s name in years and saying it out loud still felt like a dagger through the heart. There are some wounds even time couldn’t quite heal.

“Is she the one?” There was an undeniable excitement in his companion’s voice, but the Hunter merely rolled his eyes.

“Why? Are you bored of me already?”

“I’m just saying that if she’s the one, you should go and talk to her.”

In some ways, his owl companion wasn’t wrong. The house was still on his grounds and he could just walk up and even walk inside without being stopped, but after Clara’s reaction the other night, the Hunter knew that it wouldn’t go well. Clara was as scared of him as anyone else and after Ellie, he had thought it wise to abandon hope before it tore him apart.

“She doesn’t exist,” the Hunter growled.

“What? Clara?”

“No, the one,” he replied, his voice dripping with annoyance. Why couldn’t the owl just let it go? “There is no such thing. Now come on, we have a forest to guard.”

 

The Hunter raised his hand to his lips and whistled loudly until the neighing of a horse was audible in his ears. Both his sight and hearing were so much better than those of humans, especially at night, and he could soon hear his horse approach him across the forest.

That was how he spent most of the nights, roaming the forest, talking to animals, making sure that all was well while trying to stay clear of the humans. It was what he had done for centuries and especially the last part had become easier. They were afraid of him and if their intentions were to hurt this forest or its animals, rightly so. It was his mission, his curse, to guard what had once belonged to him. In a way, it still did.

With his horse beneath him and his owl on his shoulders, the Hunter looked up into the night sky and beheld the moon in his glory while on the inside, he was counting the days until the next new moon. Why did the months always stretch so long?

“The girl will know you saved her,” the owl said after a while. The horse neighed in agreement.

“Shut up,” the Hunter told his stallion. “You weren’t even there. And you shut up, too.”

Glowering at the owl didn’t help in silencing it. Why ever had he picked such a talkative animal?

“You carried her to the meadow and freed the hounds so they would alert the entire house,” the owl continued. “If she’s really Ellie’s daughter, she will know it was you.”

“Why do you keep mentioning her?” the Hunter wanted to know.

“Who? Ellie? Because you loved her, because she would have saved you if you hadn’t screwed it up. Maybe this one finally will.”

“Ellie never told Clara about me,” the Hunter said. She couldn’t have. There was no other explanation for the fright in her eyes. She had been afraid as a little girl and she had been afraid as a grown woman. Clara had no idea who he was and that he wasn’t out to hurt anyone, but he couldn’t blame Ellie for withholding that part of the story. What had happened to Ellie was the biggest regret of his long life.

Still, the Hunter couldn’t quite shake the look in Clara Oswald’s eyes and he stopped once more on the edge of the forest, looking out over the meadow and towards the room that she occupied. He was relieved to see that she was well after what had happened in the forest and along with the maids, the Hunter had guarded her throughout the night. Just a glimpse through her window every now and then so as not to alert the frightened women inside, but he had watched over her until he could be sure that she was okay.

Now, she was and she was standing at her window, meeting his gaze without even knowing it. Even though he had tried to bury the hope, a small flicker of it still sparked inside his heart and the Hunter cursed himself for it. Even if Clara Oswald wasn’t afraid of him, in the end, she would shatter his heart just like Ellie had and he wasn’t sure how many more disappointments he could take.

* * *

A gust of cold air made her shiver and Clara wanted to step away from the window, but something out there seemed to hold her gaze. She couldn’t quite explain it, she certainly couldn’t see it, but it felt almost like the Hunter was out there somewhere and she felt his gaze prickle on her skin. She had heard his horse, but it had stopped now. Was she crazy for thinking that he was watching her? And if he really was, what was his intention if not to hurt her?

The longer she thought about it, the less dangerous he actually seemed. Clara had caught him bending over Coco as if to see whether the dog was alright or had gotten lost and Coco, a born coward, hadn’t been scared. And if she had fallen in the forest and been found in the meadow, he must have moved her and made sure she was found. That didn’t sound dangerous in her ears.

A sudden knock on the door tore Clara out of her thoughts and she turned around to see her father stick his head into her room.

“Is something wrong?” she wanted to know.

She beckoned him to step inside and her father did so with an apologetic look on his face. “Linda and I will drive to London tomorrow to pick out some furniture for the dining room. I asked if we could postpone because of-”

There was no need for him to finish his sentence because Clara already knew where he was going with this.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured him.

“Or you could come with us,” her father suggested carefully.

A day trip with Linda was really the last thing Clara wanted, especially since there was something else she wanted to do and it was better for her father and Linda to not be present for that.

“I don’t think my ankle is ready for London yet,” she explained with a smile. “But I’ll be fine, I promise. There are still some parts of the house I have yet to explore and I’ll have Martha and Jenny to keep me company.”

Her father looked as if he hated to leave Clara on her own, but faced with her arguments, he had little choice but to agree.

“Alright,” he said eventually. “Sleep well.”

“You, too.”

When her father had closed the door behind him, Clara once again turned her attention towards the window, but the sensation from earlier had faded completely. There was no shiver, no prickling. The night was empty.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big group hug* Thank you guys so much for the lovely comments!!!

Her father and Linda going away for a whole day provided Clara with an excellent opportunity to investigate further without being questioned about it. Even though Martha was supportive of her curiosity, her father had already expressed his thoughts and he wasn’t exactly keen on Clara reading up on the story of the Hunter. She couldn’t exactly blame him for that. In her father eyes, it was the Hunter’s myth that had made her leave her bedroom as a child, giving the entire family a big scare when they found their room empty. And only recently, history had repeated himself, so it didn’t come as a surprise to Clara that her father didn’t like to back her explorations.

Today, however, no one was here to stop her, so after breakfast, Clara demanded a horse to be saddled so she could ride into the nearest town where Martha had told her she would find a library. An hour later, she reached the town centre and the library she had been looking for.

A librarian with flaming red hair occupied the front desk and was scribbling down on a piece of paper so fast that it made Clara’s head spin. She was so immersed in her task of writing that she paid no attention to Clara whatsoever until she decided to clear her throat.

Finally, the librarian looked up and smiled at her. “Hello, my name is Donna Noble. How may I help you?”

At the sight of a friendly face, Clara couldn’t help but smile in return. “Hi, uh, I’m looking for any book that might tell me something about the legend of the Hunter. Do you have something like that here?”

Donna Noble looked as surprised as she looked intrigued and Clara guessed that it had been a while since someone had made a request like that to her. She dropped her pen and rose to her feet, asking Clara to follow her while she walked through the rows of books and collected volume after volume from the shelves. Clara’s eyes widened a little when Donna moved on to unlock a cupboard to retrieve two ancient-looking books.

“Can I take those home with me?” Clara enquired curiously, still following the librarian on her heels while she collected the books. She had gathered no less than five different volumes by now.

“Some of them, yes,” Donna replied. “But the town chronicles are not allowed to leave this building. You’ll have to read them here and please, they should be handled with care.”

Clara nodded understandingly before the librarian dropped the stack of books in her arms, the weight almost dragging Clara towards the floor. Armed with all the knowledge on the Hunter that the library had to offer, she proceeded towards a reading table in a corner, far away from the other readers who had spread across the room.

Knowing that she could take the rest of the volumes home with her, Clara decided to start with those she had to leave behind and opened the first town chronicle that Donna Noble had picked out for her. The book seemed to be several hundred years old and at first, Clara was surprised that such an artefact was not in a museum but still in a town library. Its pages had turned yellow a long time ago, but the old ink was still clear, at least for those who knew how to read it. The chronicle started it in the year 1540 during Henry VIII’s reign and Clara soon found herself yawning over its dry contents. After reading a long paragraph about the new church, Clara decided to skim through until she found a passage that was of a lot more interest to her and she stopped to examine the page more thoroughly.

The chronicle told of a young, wealthy man who had been gifted with a patch of land. John Smith, as was his name, was no royalty, but his travels had brought him to all sorts of places all across the world and the tales of his adventures had earned him the king’s favour. At court, it said, Henry had loved Smith’s grand stories so much that he had not only given him a vast patch a land to build a mansion on, he had also found him a wife: Missy Whitmore, the daughter of a viscount. There was no mention of a marriage and only the woman is mentioned to have moved into the house, the same house Clara now lived in.

Clara had always wondered how her family had come by the land and the manor and the only reasonable explanation seemed to be that at some point, someone had bought it or received it as a favour from their monarch when the previous owner had fallen into disgrace. She couldn’t say how long before her mother’s parents the estate had been in her family’s possession.

When the first chronicle didn’t reveal a lot more, Clara moved on to the second and instantly searched for any mention of the manor. As it seemed, Missy Whitmore had married, but not John Smith. Her husband was said to have been a merchant named Henry Orlowe and together with Missy Whitmore, they were the first people to have lived in the house that would one day belong to her. Sadly, there was no mention of the Hunter on this page.

Moving on, however, Clara soon found a page that seemed to consist of complaints people had brought before the town magistrate. It ranged from stolen hens to utterly obscure requests and among them, Clara finally found what she had been looking for. The first mention of the Hunter.

First, two travelling merchants had complained to the magistrate about their journey through the forest that had been accompanied by the eerie sound of hooves. Accounts from children appeared to have not been taken very seriously, but still found a mention in the magistrate’s report of a strange figure that had the body of a man and the antlers of a stag. A hunting party sent out to capture the spirit had never returned, at least not alive, and among them was Henry Orlowe. His widow had refused to talk to the magistrate.

Clara read on and on about countless of sightings that had been made of the Hunter over the years - starting in 1541 - but they couldn’t tell her a lot more than she had already seen with her own two eyes. Nevertheless, she was content with her findings for now, packed up the remaining books and decided to take them home to read later tonight. At least she now knew that the myth of the Hunter was over 300 years old.

 

Outside, on the street, Clara realised that for the first time since her arrival, she actually felt good about herself. The prospect of having to spend her days with Linda had really dampened her spirits, but now, she once more felt a sense of purpose. It wasn’t the same as having a husband or having a job, but it was a good start. She was going to figure out what the story of the Hunter really was about.

However, as she made her way back to her horse, Clara soon found the pavement blocked by a small crowd and she was ready to evade them when suddenly, her ears caught some words of the conversation.

“It’s a disaster!” a primly dressed man complained loudly. “She couldn’t have broken her leg at a worse time! What are the children supposed to do without her?!”

“We have to send for a new teacher, we have no other choice,” another threw in.

That brought Clara’s feet to a halt in an instant. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear,” she began carefully and stepped a little closer so everyone could hear her. “Are you looking for a teacher?”

The group all turned around to face her and Clara felt their judging looks on her body. Then, the first man spoke again. “We are indeed,” he admitted. “Our English teacher broke her leg this week and we have no one to cover for her.”

“I am an English teacher,” Clara explained proudly. It was perfect. “I used to teach in London and I’m looking for a job.”

A murmur instantly spread through the small crowd, but the expression on their faces and the smile that they turned towards her told Clara that she had just secured herself another job. The prim-looking man beamed at her. “Then you must come to school on Monday morning,” he announced happily. “We will talk about the details then.”

“I will see you on Monday,” Clara confirmed with a smile.

 

Happy with herself, Clara returned home and not even the prompt return of her father and Linda could ruin her mood. She hardly listened to their stories about the London traffic and the dreadful shopping trip because her thoughts were somewhere else entirely. She couldn’t quite say whether it was the research she had done that hadn’t really helped her understand the Hunter or the prospect of a job, but when she returned to her room that evening and said goodnight to Jenny, she still felt full of energy while Coco was already snoozing on her bed. She eyed the books on her bedside table for a long moment, but soon changed her mind about digging further into the Hunter’s history. Tonight, she felt brave. Tonight, she would not let fear stop her from doing what she really wanted to do.

After taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Clara opened the door and stepped outside into the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, thank you guys for the sweet comments!!! Yes, Clara is determined to see the Hunter again, but what will happen when she does?

Her entire body was tingling with anticipation as she stepped outside - armed with a jacket instead of only her morning robe - and breathed in the cool October air. There was something magical about autumn nights in the countryside and Clara wasn’t sure whether she had truly seen it before. A layer of damp, thick mist hung over the meadow as she crossed it, twigs snapping underneath her feet. It crossed her mind that maybe she should have brought Coco along for protection, but after a moment of consideration, it seemed silly. What could a lap dog possibly protect Clara from that she wasn’t able to deter herself? And what she wasn’t able to deter herself was certainly no match for Coco either.

A sudden noise made Clara stop and her feet came to an abrupt halt right in front of the line of trees marking the entrance to the forest. A shiver crossed the back of her neck as she recognised the hoot of an owl that he disturbed her sleep every since she had arrived at this place. But tonight, no sound would stop her from entering the forest and at least catching a glimpse of the mysterious Hunter.

Her steps were careful and Clara tried her best to remain quiet and avoid making a sound, but it was soon proving to be difficult even on the paths because the full moon that had shone so bright last time had receded to a crescent and it was becoming more and more difficult to see the deeper she ventured into the woods. The animals all around her became louder the further she went, hooting and roaring and barking all around her and Clara soon felt their eyes on them. Yet none of them attacked or threatened her in any way and it was almost as if they were just as curious about Clara as she was about what was really going on inside this forest.

The cold didn’t really bother her. In fact, it felt as if her body was on fire at the prospect of what she was about to uncover. The Hunter was more than just a story, he was real and he was inside this forest right now - she only had to find him and for that, she felt like she only needed to follow her instinct.

While the forest had seemed empty when she had entered it with her father, it was now more alive than ever. In fact, it was as if the life was running right through it as if through invisible veins and Clara felt it run through her as well. It left a tingling sensation on her skin and in her stomach and it led her onwards, deeper into the woods. A sudden sound startled her and Clara ducked instinctively as the owl flew straight over her heart.

When she came back up, her heart was still pounding from the scare even though she couldn’t quite say why the owl had frightened her so much, but Clara had no time to brace herself. As she looked up, Clara noticed that the owl had settled down and it hooted at the stunned Clara who was finally standing face to face with the Hunter.

Carefully, she straightened her shoulders and she tried her very best to regain control of her heartbeat, but something else had taken over. Once more, Clara’s feet were frozen to the ground and she found that she couldn’t move while the Hunter took a small step forward. It occurred to Clara that maybe, her assumptions had been wrong and he really was evil and out to hurt her. Maybe she had just been lucky the last time because right now, the figure in front of her didn’t seem all that friendly as he approached her at a slow pace.

The Hunter was taller than she remembered him and her own head barely reached his broad shoulders. His steps, however, were soft and utterly inaudible as he moved across the ground.  
Clara tried to open her mouth, she tried to move her feet, but nothing worked. It was as if she was bound by a spell that she just couldn’t shake and slowly, the panic was starting to take over. She was going to die out here and no one would find her body for weeks and it was all her fault.

However, the Hunter came to an abrupt halt just an arm’s length in front of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I completely forgot,” he said, his voice strangely pleasant in her ears. Was that a hint of a Scottish accent?

The Hunter waved his hand and instantly, Clara was released from the ties that bound her. The change happened so suddenly that the absence of support almost made her fall to her feet. The Hunter’s hand reached out as if to steady her, but he held back and Clara glanced down at the spectacle in front of her eyes. He wasn’t a ghost. Either that, or she had imagined ghosts wrong all of her life. There was a translucence about him, but it seemed to shimmer and his body shifted in and out of focus and the moonlight penetrated his skin. Could he even touch her if he tried? Clara wasn’t sure.

When she finally looked up, Clara was surprised to find the Hunter smiling down at her. It was a kind smile and it eased her mind somewhat, knowing that he was unlikely to attack and kill her. Apart from the ghostly shimmer and the impressive set of antlers on top of his head, the Hunter looked completely ordinary and nothing like the horrible description in the books. The man was older, maybe around fifty, with lines across his forehead and around his eyes that told the tale of a long life full of both joy and sorrow and his hair was exactly as she remembered it: silver curls the exact colour of the moon.

Clara only realised that she was gawking at him when the Hunter spoke to her once more.

“You needn’t be afraid of me, Clara,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

There was definitely a hint of a Scottish accent in his voice even though it had faded over time. It took her a moment to realise that it didn’t really make sense for a local ghost to have an accent that wasn’t from around here, but by the time she had noticed, the Hunter was already talking again and she had no chance to voice her question.

“I hope you’re feeling okay,” he said. “That was quite a nasty fall the other day.”

Slowly, Clara nodded. “I’m fine, thank you,” she replied cautiously. She was talking to a ghost, to a myth. How was that even possible?

The Hunter chuckled softly. “You’re welcome.”

In return, Clara frowned at him. She had assumed it was the Hunter who had helped her, but now was her chance to ask if it was actually true. “You helped me, didn’t you? You moved me to the meadow and freed the dogs so they would wake the house.”

“And you’re welcome,” he replied.

The owl on his shoulder that Clara hadn’t really paid any attention to so far gave a hoot. Somehow, it sounded annoyed.

“Shut up, you,” the Hunter growled in the bird’s direction. “You’re being rude.”

“Wait,” Clara interrupted him in disbelief, “you can talk to the owl?”

The Hunter shrugged softly, but when he spoke, there was amusement in his tone and he was still smiling. He really wasn’t dangerous at all, was he?

“I can talk to all animals in this forest,” he explained and then gestured towards the owl again, “but this one seems especially fond of me.”

The owl hooted in protest, making Clara frown. “It doesn’t sound like it’s fond of you. More annoyed.”

To her surprise, the Hunter chuckled.

It seemed so strange to stand in the middle of the forest and talk to the creature that people had been afraid of for centuries when he wasn’t dangerous at all. In fact, he seemed so human that Clara had almost forgotten about the legend if it hadn’t been for the antlers.

“What are you?” she found herself asking. “Ever since that night, I’ve been reading up on you and everyone thinks you’re dangerous, but there wasn’t anything in the books about what you are.”

A strange expression crossed over the Hunter’s face as he pondered his answer and Clara wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but eventually, he put on a smile again. “I’m the Hunter,” he said simply. “I protect the forest from those who would do harm. That’s what I am. That’s my purpose.”

Maybe, he wasn’t a ghost. Maybe, he was something unique.

“You have nothing to fear from me because your intentions are good,” the Hunter went on to explain. “You came because you’re curious. There’s no harm in that.”

At last, Clara smiled at him in return and she was beginning to understand at least a little. Even if there was no explanation for his existence, he was here and he was keeping the forest safe. That night she had fallen, his desire to protect had included her.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” the Hunter asked cautiously. “You were a child when you first walked into the forest, but I recognised you.”

That story her father had told her, the memories that had begun to resurface, it was all true, as were the tales in the town chronicles and what Martha had told her. The Hunter had killed those who had tried to harm his forest and he protected those who wandered into his terrain unwittingly or without bad intentions. Suddenly, it all seemed a little too much. Even though Clara had known that there was something to it, she hadn’t really expected to stumble upon the truth. She hadn’t expected it all to actually be real.

“It’s late,” the Hunter reasoned, obviously reading her mood. “I should walk you back to the edge of the forest.”

Not knowing what else to do, Clara nodded and quietly, the Hunter started to move. They walked back in silence for a long moment and even though she tried her best, even though her head was full of questions, Clara struggled to focus under the weight of all the incredible things she had seen and heard tonight. It wasn’t until they reached the line of trees and she was looking out on the meadow that Clara realised something very important: she didn’t really want to leave.

“Will you come back?” the Hunter asked her.

Clara turned to face him and once again, she felt as if he was reading her thoughts. Could he do that?

She opened her mouth, but the words took a while to come out. “Do you want me to?”

The Hunter merely smiled at her in return and Clara took a deep breath, making a decision. As long as she had no intention of harming the forest or the animals inside, she would be safe. He wouldn’t hurt her.

“Yes,” she replied eventually. “I’ll be back.”

Somehow, her response seemed to make him happy, but the Hunter never said what he was thinking. Instead, he nodded towards the house all the way across the meadow. There was only one light still burning and it was coming from her room.

“I’ll wait until you’re safely inside,” he said.

All the way across the grass, Clara felt his gaze on him, but she didn’t turn around because she knew that if she did, she might not have the courage to leave. There was something magical about the Hunter and the forest that just drew in her and Clara couldn’t explain what it was or why it was there, but she had felt it even as a child.

When she closed the door behind her and was engulfed by the warmth of her room, Clara was unable to see the forest in the darkness outside, but the Hunter’s lingering gaze was still there, prickling on her skin and making her shiver.

What sort of ghost had she unleashed by going into the forest?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so, so much for the lovely comments! Now, let's power through the rest of the work week with a new chapter :)

“You should have told her the truth,” the owl warned.

The Hunter turned his head and threw a glowering glance at the bird on his shoulder, wondering why on earth the animal loved meddling so much. “There’s still time for that,” he replied grumpily. “I need Clara to trust me first.”

“Ellie. That’s all I’m saying,” his feathery companion retorted.

“Ellie was a completely different situation,” the Hunter growled. “And I can’t just spring the whole truth on Clara at once. You saw how she reacted to seeing us.”

The owl opened its beak, but the Hunter had had enough of its sermons for today. He reached out and closed the beak with his thumb and index finger, holding it shut until his bird uttered a few sounds of discontent.

“That’s not very nice,” the owl muttered when the Hunter finally removed his hand.

“Neither is sticking your beak in matters that are none of your concern,” he replied. “Now, come on. We have a forest to guard.”

As he made his way deeper into the woods once again, the Hunter wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to feel. Clara had come back and he was trying his best not to give in to the temptation of hope. She had promised to see him again, yes, but that meant nothing as he knew from experience. And Clara was a single woman in her thirties with no children of her own. Hope was completely out of place here because this would be his very last chance. If he blew it, he was lost forever.

* * *

When Clara woke up the next morning, she couldn’t quite say whether she had dreamed it all. Her eyes flew open, staring at the ceiling, and she remembered vividly what had happened the night before. She conjured up the Hunter’s face and in her memory, his silver hair almost looked like a halo at the base of his antlers. He was real and he wasn’t a threat.

She felt a twinge of pride at having discovered his secret and even though Clara still didn’t have all the answers, she was now sure that she would find them in time because he had asked her to return. Tonight, she would go back into the forest and look for him and this time, she had no reason to be afraid.

The bedroom door opened, tearing her out of her thoughts and Coco from her sleep and Clara watched Martha step inside, immediately noticing the lack of breakfast tray.

“Good morning,” the maid greeted her immediately, then frowned. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing,” Clara replied. Had she been smiling? It must have been the pride. “Just thinking that it’s a wonderful day, that’s all.”

Martha smiled at her in return and crossed the room to fully open the curtains, letting in the bright sunshine of a lovely autumn morning. When the windows opened, the cold, damp air flooded the room, reviving Clara’s memories of last night. It had smelled just like that out in the meadow, fresh, like earth reborn.

“Mr and Mrs Oswald asked me to bring you downstairs for breakfast,” Martha said after a moment. “They have an announcement to make.”

Clara rolled her eyes. Knowing Linda, it probably had something to do with the dining room renovations and Clara wasn’t even remotely interested in that. As it was, however, the summoning suited her because in between their tales of London, Clara hadn’t had a chance to tell them about her new job yet. They would hate it, but she thought it was better to get the news out as soon as possible.

When Martha left, Clara set out to wash and got dressed before she headed towards the kitchen, handing Coco over to Jenny to be fed. Her dog had already befriended the majority of the household and greeted Jenny with a wagging tail before begging for treats. The sight of it made Clara realised that she was quite hungry as well and even the prospect of a breakfast with Linda didn’t stop her from hurrying towards the dining room.

 

“Good morning,” Clara said as she entered the room and breathed in deeply when the heavenly scent of fresh coffee and bread rolls filled her nose. There was also the smell of scrambled eggs and the sight of fresh fruits made her mouth water. “Oh, this looks great.”

Clara plopped down in her usual seat and reached for a strawberry, stuffing it into her mouth under the scrutinising glances of her father and Linda.

“You seem in a good mood this morning,” her father noted happily. “I’m glad you’re finally settling in.”

Reaching for a roll, Clara considered her possibilities and decided that it was best to start with the news straight away. “I am indeed settling in,” she confirmed proudly. “I went into town yesterday to have a look around and by pure coincidence, I found a new job.”

Clara looked up, carefully examining the look on her father’s and Linda’s face. They seemed surprised more than anything.

“A job?” Linda asked immediately. “A job doing what?”

“I’m a teacher,” Clara reminded her. “I taught in London and, as it happens, their English teacher had an accident and they’re looking for a replacement. I’m supposed to meet the headteacher for a chat on Monday.”

“Clara,” her father said softly. There was something about his voice that immediately told her he didn’t quite approve of the news. “You don’t have to work, you know? We have more than enough money set aside for you to have a comfortable life.”

Clara wanted to sigh. They had had this conversation multiple times before she had moved to London to become a teacher and by now, her father should really know better than to bring up the old arguments.

“I want to work, Dad,” she explained once again. “I didn’t become a teacher because it brings in money but because it’s what I want to do. I enjoy it.”

“I couldn’t be bothered to educate other people’s children,” Linda remarked without looking up. Instead, her entire focus seemed to be on the scrambled eggs filling her plate.

Even though it was hard, Clara resisted the urge to snap at her stepmother. Instead, she settled for the diplomatic approach. “Well, I like it and you wanted me to settle in, so that’s what I’m doing. The job is part of that.”

She glanced at her father and finally, he granted her a soft smile. “Of course, darling,” he said. “If it makes you happen, then that’s what you have to do.”

“Thank you,” Clara replied.

They ate in silence for a while and even though Clara was curious about the news Martha had mentioned her family had for her, she decided not to press it. While she was carefully spreading raspberry jam on her roll, her father finally cleared his throat and began to speak again.

“We also have some news,” he announced carefully. Something about the way he said it made Clara wary and told her that she wasn’t likely to receive the news very well. “We will have a guest during the next few weeks.”

“Oh?” Clara enquired. She didn’t see why they would have to announce a guest to her when it wasn’t even her house yet. In fact, Clara still felt like a guest herself.

“Robert is a fine, young man from a good family,” Linda added. She smiled so proudly that Clara got the impression she would rather have Robert for a stepchild than her. “We’ve been friends with his parents for years and we are very happy to take him in.”

“Why do you need to take him in?” she wanted to know. If his family was so great, it seemed like an odd thing to do.

This time, it was her father who answered the question. “Robert got a job in town. He’s a lawyer and he will need a place to stay until he has found lodgings of his own. We offered him a room because, let’s face it, we have plenty of those.”

There was something odd about the way her father and Linda were acting, something odd about the way they were talking to her and especially Linda seemed to be advertising this young man in some way or another. Clara suddenly got a strange feeling, an inkling of what her father and stepmother were up to and there was only one way to find out if she was right in her assumption.

“Well, make sure to give Robert and his wife one of the larger rooms,” she said. “They will not appreciate living in a crammed closet.”

“Oh, there is no wife,” Linda corrected her, just as Clara had expected. “Robert is a bachelor.”

It was a set-up. Her father and Linda were trying to set Clara up with a man and she had no interest in that whatsoever. Still, she decided to play nice for the time being.

“Then Robert will have no problem with a crammed closet,” she retorted and decided to focus on her breakfast. As long as the lawyer didn’t get in the way of her _research_ , Clara didn’t care about his presence at all.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much all your lovely comments :) Clara's curiosity drives her back to the Hunter, but he is still keeping a secret from her, isn't he?

The Hunter waited patiently at the edge of the forest, keeping an eye on the house at all times. Since moonrise, he had stood there silently, watching the lights go out one by one until there was only a single light left: Clara’s room. The Hunter straightened his back, eagerly awaiting her return.

“Will you tell her the truth today?”

He shot around and spotted his owl sitting on a nearby branch and his eyes narrowed in the bird’s direction. Thankfully, Clara couldn’t understand the animal or else that might ruin everything. “Didn’t I tell you to bugger off?”

The owl glowered at him in return, mirroring his expression perfectly. “I only want what’s best for you. She won’t thank you for withholding the truth about the role she might play.”

“She also won’t thank me for springing it on her,” the Hunter growled and waved his hand at the animal. Instinct made it spread its wings and fly off at last and when the Hunter turned his attention back towards the meadow, he saw that Clara was already on her way. A smile appeared on his face and he vowed that this time, he would not make this same mistake. This time, the Hunter would do everything right.

 

“Good evening,” he greeted her softly as she entered the forest through a small pathway and Clara came to a halt at the sight of him.

Tonight, she had dressed in a thick cloak, a wise decision because, as he remembered, humans were cold in the autumn nights, and she smiled at him even though the uneasiness was still all too visible. The Hunter couldn’t blame her. So far, very few humans had been able to bear his presence and all of them had shared certain similarities, but that didn’t mean it had come easily to them. No, the Hunter had had to earn their trust just like he would have to earn Clara’s.

“Hi,” Clara said in return, her voice filled with awe just like her eyes. A part of her still couldn’t believe that he was actually real, but he would prove it to her.

However, the Hunter found himself speechless as they walked along the path that led deeper into the forest. Making friends had never been his strength and each time he tried, it seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. Luckily for him, it was Clara who started.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For saving me the other night.”

He chuckled softly and sought Clara’s gaze, but she kept her eyes firmly on the ground in front of her. “As I’ve said, you’re welcome,” the Hunter replied. “It’s my duty to protect this land and that includes you.”

Something about that seemed to amuse her. “I’m part of the land?” Clara wanted to know.

The Hunter shrugged. “The house is yours, so, yeah. Your family has been part of it for centuries.”

“So you would have done the same for my father or Linda?” Finally, Clara turned her head towards him and her eyebrows were raised.

With a soft shake of his head, the Hunter denied it. “The land doesn’t belong to your father or your stepmother. It belongs to you like it belonged to your mother and her mother before that.”  
And since Clara didn’t have any children, the bloodline would come to an end and his hope with it, but this was no time for self-pity as the Hunter became aware of Clara’s intrigued looks. He could tell that she had a million questions on her mind and he would try his best to answer them without driving her away.

Clara came to a sudden halt and observed him closely, something that always made the Hunter a little uneasy. “You’ve really been around for centuries, haven’t you?” she wanted to know. “I’ve looked it up in the chronicles and the reports started in the sixteenth century. That’s when people first started telling the tales.”

“Yes,” the Hunter confirmed. “Sounds about right.”

Her gaze darkened instantly and he could feel what was about to come because he had had this conversation several times before.

“You killed people,” she observed.

The Hunter never knew what to reply to that statement because it wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t entirely true either. But how could he explain it to her?

“I don’t mean to,” he said simply. “It’s just that… people can’t usually bear to look at me. They look at me and they see a monster.”

“I don’t see a monster,” Clara replied instantly, defying his statement with a determined glance and it made the Hunter smile.

“No,” he remarked, his voice thoughtful. It was in her blood, the invisible strings that tied her to him.

Maybe she didn’t see a monster, but she was far from seeing what he truly was. It was too early.

They continued their walk, carefully treading on the dark path ahead of them and by now, the Hunter had a vague idea of where he was going to lead it. What he didn’t know was what to say. The women in her family had always had the talent of rendering him speechless.

“What do you do?” Clara asked, her voice brimming with curiosity. Just like her impossibly big eyes, that trait had been passed down to her through generations. “What are you, exactly? A ghost? A spirit?”

The Hunter scoffed softly. “I’m not entirely sure myself,” he admitted. “I am what I am and that is the Hunter, the guardian of this forest. I rise with the moon, I roam the land, I make sure no harm comes to any living thing inside these woods and then I vanish at first light.”

“That sounds kind of lonely,” Clara observed.

“It can be,” the Hunter replied as he came to a halt.

They had arrived at the exact spot he had intended to show to Clara and once she had realised that he had stopped, she looked up and uttered a gasp. In front of them lay what he liked to describe as the most beautiful spot in the entire forest. There was a lake hidden away in a clearing that hardly anyone knew about and an autumn fog had settled over the water, giving the area an almost mysterious look. The crescent moon stood right above them, shining its light down to illuminate the mist in a ghostly glow.

“It’s beautiful,” Clara said breathlessly, gawking at the sight in front of her eyes. She seemed entirely mesmerised until his owl flew across the water, right through the fog, and settled on the other side of the lake. It was only a brief disturbance, but it was enough to tear Clara out of her amazement.

Then, she turned her head towards him once again. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said. When she looked at him, the moon reflected in her dark eyes, making them shine. “I never knew there was a lake in this spot.”

“It was your mother’s favourite place. I thought you might like it.”

The moment he said it, the Hunter began to regret his words. It was too soon, it was too much all at once and he expected Clara to step away from him at any given moment. Yet to his surprise, the only thing that happened was the widening of her eyes.

“You knew my mother?” she asked incredulously.

With no other choice left, the Hunter nodded. “Your mother first met me when she was a child. We were friends for many years until she met your father and moved away.”

It was only part of the story, but how could he ever tell her what had really happened when it still hurt so deeply? The Hunter had put all of his hopes in Ellie and even though none of it was her fault, she had let him down in the end. He had let her down by asking her to do the impossible.

Clara’s eyes lit up at the mention of her mother and a large smile spread across her lips. Even though the Hunter didn’t quite understand why, hearing about Ellie somehow made her happy.

“Will you tell me what my mother was like as a child?” Clara asked him.

The Hunter chuckled in response. “You certainly have a lot of questions,” he said in amusement. “But yes, I will tell you if that’s what you want to hear.”

“Thank you,” Clara replied thankfully and then the most unexpected thing happened.

She reached out to touch his arm and for a moment, the Hunter was afraid it might scare her to reach right through him. It was part of who he was, part of his curse to never be able to touch a human being. Of course, over the centuries, the Hunter had learned that he could if he only focused hard enough, if he willed himself to touch someone just like he had done when he had carried Clara to safety. Yet Clara’s gesture took him so much by surprise that the Hunter didn’t have time to brace himself and a surge of energy went through his skin as Clara’s hand came to rest on his arm.

For anyone else, it would have been the most ordinary thing, but for the Hunter, it was the strangest feeling he had experienced in centuries. Clara’s touch was palpable on his skin, tingling and prickling and he hadn’t felt anything like that in a very long time.

Instinctively, he stepped back. “How did you do that?” he demanded to know, his voice coming out harsher than he had expected it to.

Clara frowned in response. “Do what?”

“I’m a ghost,” he said, puzzled. “You shouldn’t be able to do that.”

“What? Touch you?”

Clara seemed just as confused as he felt, so just to be sure that he hadn’t imagined it, the Hunter raised his hand, holding his palm towards Clara. The moonlight penetrated his skin in an eerie way as he did and he remembered walking through walls. What he couldn’t remember was anyone touching him as effortlessly as Clara had. It worked with animals, yes, but only because he had lived with them for so long that they had become a part of him. Not humans, however. Never humans. Not even Ellie had been able to reach out and touch his skin.  
In response to his gesture, Clara raised her hand as well, carefully aligning it with his own mid-air. As their fingertips brushed, the Hunter felt the strange tingling once again and it reached from his fingers straight into his core.

Clara uttered a short, mesmerised laugh. “Seems like I can touch you after all.”

“Yeah,” the Hunter breathed in reply and he knew that it could only mean one thing. Clara would be his salvation. Or his undoing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big group hug for the sweet comments* Thank you guys!!!!

As she lay in her bed that evening, Clara soon found that sleep was impossible while her mind was still racing. Not only was the Hunter real, he seemed to be an entirely magical creature that had been around for centuries, befriending not only Clara but also her mother before her. With her eyes closed, Clara smiled to herself, picturing the lake the Hunter had showed her and remembering how safe she had suddenly felt with him after learning that he wasn’t a danger to her. If someone had told her about this a few weeks ago, Clara would have called them mad, but as it was, she knew that it was all very, very real and she felt impatient to see him again. However, Clara knew that it would have to wait.

Sunday passed slowly and Clara occupied herself by reading some more of the Hunter’s tales - ones she now knew were completely inaccurate - and generally spending time in the library to avoid talking to Linda. Also, Clara thought it was a good way to take her mind off the impending job interview that she was slowly beginning to feel nervous about. Since she had to get up in the early morning to make a good impression, there was no time to sneak out into the forest on Sunday night. With a heavy heart, she stood by the window and looked out into the darkness, knowing that somewhere out there, the Hunter was probably waiting for her return. The urge to throw on a coat and just go out to meet him was strong, but Clara knew that she had to listen to reason. There would still be time for that later.

 

On Monday morning, Clara put on her most proper dress, one she had already worn to teach her class in London, and after a hearty breakfast, she asked her father’s driver to take her into town. Her hands trembled a little throughout the ride.

However, she soon found that she had no reason to be worried. Mr Armitage, the headteacher, was an elderly man and strict only on the outside. As soon as the door had closed, separating them from the children, he granted Clara a warm smile and offered her a cup of tea.

“We have two English teachers at this school,” he explained, “one for the youngsters to teach them how to read and write and one for the older ones to help them understand the classics and show them how to write a proper essay. It was the second one who broke her leg in an accident and the doctors say she probably won’t be returning for the rest of the term.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Clara replied politely, not knowing what else to say. “But if that’s the kind of teacher you’re looking for, I’d be more than happy to step in. I’ve been teaching older students for several years in London.”

She reached into her bag and produced a folder containing letters of reference from her last two schools. Mr Armitage looked at them with curiosity before his eyes began to widen. It was obvious that he was impressed and Clara felt a hint of pride.

“That looks very good, Mrs Oswald,” he said and raised his head to smile at her once again. “Would you be okay with teaching three times a week for a few hours around noon?”

Clara smiled at him in response, but before she even had a chance to say yes, Mr Armitage went on.

“I know you are probably used to more students and larger classrooms, but we are only a small town with a limited number of children. I understand a schedule like that might not be enough to live on-”

“That is perfectly alright, Mr Armitage,” Clara replied quickly before he decided to add an apology. Luckily for her, she didn’t need to teach in order to pay her bills just as her father had pointed out, but she was happy to have a purpose again even if it was only for a few hours each week. “I would be more than happy to accept.”

The headteacher continued to smile, but there was a mischievous expression of his face now. “If that’s the case, would you like to start right away?”

Clara nodded enthusiastically. “Just lead me to the classroom.”

 

At the end of the day, Clara was positively surprised even though Mr Armitage had been right. The classes she had taught in London were all larger and it seemed like a nice change to just have two of them filled with less than twenty people. Already, she was looking forward to teaching them all about the classics she had loved for years and tomorrow noon, she would get her first chance.

Now, Clara was sitting on her bed, smiling happily about the recent developments and waiting for the rest of the house to go to sleep. The moon was already high up in the sky and she was eager to throw on her coat and step outside into the night to pay a visit to the Hunter. Yet she flinched when Coco suddenly started to bark.

In a swift movement, Clara’s head shot around and she uttered a scream before she could stop herself.

Her heart was beating so fast that for a moment, she couldn’t comprehend the gruesome sight in front of her eyes and only slowly did Clara realise there was nothing to be frightened of. What had looked like a severed head attached to her wall slowly came into focus and she recognised the Hunter who was merely sticking his head through the wall.

“Clara?” he asked in confusion, his brows furrowed at her. “Is everything alright?”

At last, he stepped through the wall entirely, his body gliding through the material as if it wasn’t there at all and his ghostly presence filled her room. Angrily, Clara rose from her bed and punched him in the chest.

“Ow!” he complained loudly.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Clara insisted. She barely reached the Hunter’s shoulders and would be anything but intimidating to him, but still, Clara pushed herself up on tiptoes to appear at least a little taller. “You can’t just stick your head into my room like that!”

The Hunter seemed a little confused by her sudden outburst and the frown on his face only deepened. “I checked if you were alone,” he argued.

“That’s not the point,” Clara told him strictly. “At least a knock would have been nice. You gave me a scare.”

He opened his mouth in response, but no word came out when suddenly a voice was audible out of Clara’s room.

“Clara, are you okay?” Martha asked.

She didn’t have time to think everything through because Clara knew that in a few seconds, a maid would enter her room and if she found the Hunter inside, all hell would break loose. Not knowing what else to do, Clara grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him towards the window, covering his translucent body with the curtains and ordering him to be silent just in time. A second later, Martha entered the room.

“I thought I heard a scream?”

Clara turned to face the maid and racked her brain for a good excuse, but it only came to her when her eyes fell on Coco. “Oh, um, yeah,” she replied. There was no way she could deny it now. “Coco just jumped up on my bed. I didn’t expect it and she gave me a scare.”

Martha, however, looked quite unconvinced.

“Really,” Clara tried to reassure her. “I was about to fall asleep and then she jumped on me. Nothing happened.”

Finally, the maid seemed ready to let it go and granted Clara a smile. “Okay,” she said in response. “Well, have a good night despite the scare.”

“See you in the morning,” Clara replied and breathed a sigh of relief when Martha closed the door behind her. That was a close call.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Clara watched the Hunter stick his head through the curtains just like he had done with the wall a few minutes ago. This time, it didn’t scare her, but it did make him look a little like someone had beaded him.

Clara frowned at him. “Please, don’t do that, that’s just wrong,” she told him.

His body glided through the curtains and at the sight of his impressive figure, Clara almost forgot how to be angry. The antlers, as well as his translucent skin, reminded her once again that he wasn’t human and that she probably shouldn’t expect him to act like one.

“You didn’t come to the forest last night,” the Hunter said, worry now showing in his voice. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Even though she really wanted to stay angry for a moment longer, Clara felt the anger fade at the sight in front of her. The Hunter looked thoroughly worried and it prompted her to smile at him.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him. “I had a job interview early in the morning, that’s why I didn’t come.”

The Hunter sighed as if in relief.

“But I was basically just on my way to you,” she said sincerely, grinning. “I was hoping we could go back to the lake.”

The thoughtful expression quickly faded from his face and was replaced with a broad, sincere smile. “Well, in that case,” he replied and held out his arm for her to take.

As Clara reached out to touch him, he felt the same tingling sensation she had already noticed two nights ago, the one that accompanied the coolness of his skin. Whatever he was, whatever the reason she was even able to touch him, as they headed out onto the meadow, Clara felt like it was supposed to be. What was happening now was happening for a reason.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all your lovely comments :) I'm glad I've still got your interest regarding the Hunter's little (or big?) secret.

The air was colder than it had the nights before and Clara recognised it as a sign of impending winter, something she didn’t want to think about just yet. Even though she had always loved snow and the Christmas season, she dreaded the idea of grey days and early nights right now. Clara would prefer the autumn to linger for a while longer with its colourful leaves and misty mornings.

The Hunter seemed to have picked up on her melancholy and remained quiet as they walked back towards the lake he had shown her a few nights ago, but his silence brought her back to the topic she wanted to ask him about the most. At first, she had been so curious about who and what he was, but now that Clara knew he had known her mother as well, her curiosity had taken on a whole new dimension.

“Last time we saw each other,” Clara began carefully, “you mentioned that you knew my mother.”

She lifted her head, looking up at his translucent figure hopefully. Her mother had died sixteen years ago which meant that Clara had spent just as much time with a mother in her life as she had without, but even after so many years, she still couldn’t say it was easy.

To her relief, the Hunter smiled down at her and for some reason, it conveyed a warmth that made Clara think he remembered her mother very fondly.

“I did,” he said. “I met her when she was just a little girl.”

Clara smiled back at him. “She wasn’t scared of you?”

“She was at first,” the Hunter admitted. They continued their walk, but Clara had the impression that this time, they were talking a slightly different path. She couldn’t remember that part of the forest. “You have a lot in common with your mother, including the fact that you both walked around in your sleep as children.”

“I didn’t do that!” Clara protested instantly even though she knew that he wasn’t entirely wrong. She had sleepwalked at least once.

The Hunter chuckled. “Well, you did when you walked into the forest as a child,” he corrected her. “The same thing happened to your mother. I had thought she wouldn’t remember any of it, but she came back to look for me. And she was curious, just like you. Ellie always wanted to know everything.”

Clara felt her heart light up at the tales about her mother and for a brief moment, it felt like she was still with her.

“Ellie kept coming back to the forest for years until she knew it almost as well as I do,” the Hunter went on to explain, a loving tone to his voice. “I watched her grow up while she talked about her parents and her tutor and all those things that normally bother girls that age. She was very, very bright and so lovely. When she came to visit me, I felt-”

The Hunter broke off, making Clara frown at him. She wanted to know more.

“You felt what?” she asked gently.

When he turned to look at her, his expression looked sad, stricken. “You said that it sounded lonely to be alone in the forest,” he said. “It is, but while your mother was here, that loneliness went away. I felt like I was part of something at last.”

There was something about the way he said it, about how his voice sounded and his face looked when he talked about her mother and even though Clara only knew a small fragment of the story, she could tell that the Hunter had loved her mother. In his very own, mystical way, he had loved her.

“My mother was like that,” Clara replied for lack of anything else to say. “She could make everything better, no matter what it was.”

But Clara also knew how that story had ended and how sad it must have made him. At some point, her mother had fallen in love with her father and moved away and she had never mentioned her childhood friend after that, at least not to Clara.

“Did you know what happened to her?” she wanted to know.

The Hunter nodded gravely. “I had a feeling when your father came back without her,” he admitted. “So I, um, I sneaked around the house and overheard a few things. Ellie deserved better than that.”

Clara couldn’t help but agree. Her mother hadn’t deserved the horrible accident that took her life and she hadn’t deserved to be replaced by someone like Linda. Still, she couldn’t quite forgive her father for bringing her into this house.

“ _You_ deserved better,” the Hunter added, surprising Clara with his remark, but before she had a chance to ask about it, he continued. “To lose your mother at that age, to lose a mother like Ellie, that must have been hard.”

He was right, of course, but Clara didn’t quite know what to say to him in response. So instead of talking, she reached out and took his hand in her own, feeling the strange coolness that his body emitted. It wasn’t unpleasant at all, but it was such a foreign feeling that she couldn’t quite compare it to touching a human. His skin tingled against her own in a way that she hadn’t felt before and she started to wonder what it was like for him.

“How does it feel?” Clara asked curiously as their fingers slowly entwined and their hands folded perfectly in each other.

The Hunter considered his answer for a while. “It feels… strange,” he said reluctantly. “Like a prickling, a tingling and warm. But not entirely unpleasant.”

Clara smiled and when she breathed out, the air came out as a white cloud. “It tingles for me, too,” she admitted and felt her heart skip a small beat. There was something utterly magical about him, something no words could explain, but Clara knew that it was a good feeling, one quite unlike anything she had felt before.

To her surprise, the Hunter lifted up her hand exposing her skin to the cold night air once again as he guided it to his mouth. Carefully, in an inexplicably gentle gesture, he touched the back of her hand with his lips, making the tingling feel almost like electricity that shot straight through her body like a bolt of lighting.

Maybe Clara hadn’t wanted to come here, maybe she would have preferred to stay in London, but right now, as he kissed her hand, she knew that it couldn’t have been any other way. Clara knew that she was supposed to be here - for him. Her mother’s departure had left him lonely and something had brought her here to fix that. And if Clara needed anything in this place, it was a friend.

At some point, her icy feet and a shiver forced her to turn back and the Hunter guided her all the way to the edge of the forest, never leaving her site for even a second, but as Clara walked back towards her room, she didn’t just feel his eyes on her back as he watched her walk away, she also felt the trace he had left on her hand. Even now, over an hour later, the tingling still hadn’t subsided and as she fell asleep that evening, Clara started to wonder what it would have felt like, had his lips landed on her own instead of her hand.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *massive group hug for all commenter* Thank you :)

When Clara returned from school the next day, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find the dining room crowded during tea time, but she was because she had completely forgotten about the visitor her father and Linda had mentioned. As soon as she stepped into the room, all eyes were on her and Clara spotted a man she hadn’t seen before.

Robert was around her own age and not bad-looking. His eyes, as well as his smile, were warm and friendly and he wore his dark hair sleeked back according to fashion. The young man rose from his seat to greet her.

“Hello,” he said in a polite manner, “my name is Robert Johnson. You must be Clara. Your father and stepmother have already told me a lot about you, but they failed to mention how beautiful you are.”

Clara cringed at the remark when Robert went to kiss her hand even though she knew that he was just trying his best to be polite, but she wasn’t so very fond of how he was doing it.

When he came back up, Robert chuckled to himself, blushing just a little. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, embarrassed, “that was a little corny, wasn’t it?”

His honest self-assessment made Clara laugh as she withdrew her hand. “Just a little, yep.”

The young man held her chair until she sat down at the table and as soon as she was seated, her stepmother rose to her feet, clearing her throat. It was most definitely a set-up, devised by  
both Linda and her father and now, she would excuse herself to leave Clara and Robert on their own.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to get acquainted and instruct Jenny on our dinner plans,” Linda announced and turned towards Clara, wearing a false smile on her lips. “Why don’t you tell Robert a little more about the house and the area in the meantime?”

As Linda retreated, Clara and Robert exchanged a quick glance and the smile he gave her quickly put Clara at ease. He had seen through her stepmother’s ruse as well and he likely felt just as embarrassed by the whole situation.

“I’m so sorry,” Clara whispered as soon as Linda was out of earshot. “My stepmother is… one of a kind.”

Robert chuckled in return. “I’m sorry as well,” he apologised quickly. “I was merely looking for a place to stay and your family kindly offered me a room. It’s not my intention to impose on you in any way, so don’t feel obliged to spend time with me.”

“It’s alright,” Clara reassured him quickly. Robert was nice, just as her father and Linda had told her, and it wasn’t his fault that they were trying to find her a match. “But I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about the house and the town. I only just moved here from London.”

“Linda mentioned you work as a teacher?” he enquired curiously even though he almost sounded like he didn’t quite believe it.

She nodded enthusiastically. “I only just started here, but I already love it. The children are saints compared to my old class in London,” Clara explained happily.

“It’s a little unusual for a woman of your… birth to work,” he remarked, but when Clara’s gaze darkened, he quickly moved on. “I mean, not that I’m judging, I’m just saying that it’s unusual. I’m sure you wouldn’t have to.”

“But I want to,” Clara said determinedly. “Teaching is more than just a job for me. It’s a calling. I’m sure that, as a lawyer, you’ll understand.”

“I understand, I do,” Robert confirmed and smiled once again in an attempt to ease the tension. “If teaching is what you love, don’t let anyone tell you not to do it.”

Clara nodded softly. “Thank you.”

 

Even though Robert had told her not to feel obliged to show her around, Clara gave him a quick tour of the house, introducing the young man to Martha and Jenny and showing him around the grounds. When she told him not to enter the forest at night, Clara decided to omit the details for now and instead, mentioned wild animals. Robert seemed content for now, but still, Clara felt relieved when he finally retreated to his room to unpack and she was free to do whatever she wanted.

And in that case, it was to dive into her research.

The books in the library were still exactly as she had left them, piling up on the small table that neither her father nor Linda occupied while they were reading and she was alone, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to read some more accounts of the Hunter’s activities.

Clara laughed at some of the descriptions who described the Hunter as a demon figure with glowing red eyes and a tail because she knew it couldn’t be further from the truth. Sometimes, she even doubted if the sightings had been real, so Clara decided to devise a system. One column of her list was filled with reports that were definitely exaggerated or even made up entirely and the other column listed sightings that could have been real even if some details might have been added here or there. The result of her system was a little surprising at first, but the longer she looked at it, the more it made Clara realise that the most accurate accounts came from children.

The Hunter had been seen every now and then over the course of the centuries and Clara knew that he had also killed, but he had always spared the children. The rest of the adults who claimed to have seen him were either dead or lying - or they hadn’t talked about it.

“Why are you reading about fairytales?”

Clara spun around and looked into Robert’s chuckling face. He seemed amused to find her brooding over this particular subject and instantly, Clara felt her fragile sympathy for him fade.

“There’s a difference between urban myths and fairytales,” she remarked gruffly. “I’m merely doing research on the local folk tales.”

Robert seemed to sense her anger and quickly stepped back, clearing his throat to get ready for an apology. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” he said in response. “I understand why they can be interesting.”

Clara nodded, deciding to accept his apology, but she vowed not to tell him any more about the Hunter or why he shouldn’t enter the forest at night. If Robert figured out that the Hunter was real, he would either lose his mind or do something stupid and Clara couldn’t risk that. Tonight, when she went into the forest, she would just have to be a little more careful not to be seen.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Robert be friend or foe? Will the Hunter finally reveal his secrets? Find out what happens next and thank you so much for all your lovely comments :)

The night air was crisp and colder than the previous ones had been, so Clara was forced to pull her coat around her body a little more tightly. She was sure that her breath came out as white clouds, but she couldn’t be sure because it was almost too dark to see anything and Clara clung to the lamp she had brought. The moon that had illuminated her path all the other times had faded to a new moon now and the stars hardly shed any light at all, so the kerosene lantern in her hand was her only chance of finding her way through the forest.

Once again, she was excited to see the Hunter again and she felt that excitement course through every vein in her body. Clara couldn’t even say why that was or what exactly was drawing her in. The fact that he had known her mother and could probably tell her things her father wouldn’t even dream to say out loud? No, that wasn’t all there was to it because Clara had been curious before even knowing about that. There was something about the Hunter, something Clara couldn’t quite put her finger on and she was desperate to know more, to find out every possible detail there was to know about him. All those accounts from all those people who claimed to have seen him hadn’t helped at all because they had never spoken to him, never seen his softer, gentler side and it was the one that fascinated her the most. Her mother had known the Hunter like that, maybe some others had as well, but they hadn’t talked about it and now it was up to Clara to figure it out by herself. And figure it out she would.

Suddenly, her feet got caught in something and Clara gasped at the surprise, but it was too late to stop the fall. Her knees hit the ground with a thud, sending a surge of pain through her legs as they scraped over the stones, causing Clara to hiss. The realisation of what had happened followed shortly after the pain as the world was plunged into darkness. In the back of her mind, she remembered the sound during the fall as the breaking of glass. Her kerosene lantern was broken and had gone out.

“Oh, crap,” Clara muttered to herself, reaching for the broken lamp to assess the damage, only to notice that it wasn’t quite as easy to find in the sudden darkness as she would have hoped. Maybe coming here on a new moon night had been a bad idea. Maybe she should turn around and come back another time when the moon was up and she had found a better and less breakable lantern. However, she wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to find her way back in the darkness.

While Clara still pondered her options, she eventually found the broken lamp and hissed once more when her fingertips touched the hot surface. She really should have stayed at home tonight.

Not knowing how else to go on from here without the aid of her lantern, Clara made the only possible decision to go back home. She hadn’t ventured that far into the forest yet and as soon as she had left the trees behind, the stars would shed a little more light, but before she even had a chance to rise to her feet, a sound startled her.

At first, Clara didn’t know what it was because it wasn’t something she had heard around here before, but the longer she listened to the rustling in the undergrowth and the steps slowly approaching her, Clara began to fear the worst. A grunt eventually gave it away. She was in the presence of a boar and the realisation made the hairs on her neck stand up. 

Clara could have handled foxes and deer, but after the last wolf had been killed in the English forests, the boar remained the most dangerous one and being in its presence made Clara freeze. From the sounds it made alone, she could tell that it was a large animal and maybe others were close by, maybe it had shoats and if that was the case, the animal would be extremely dangerous.

Slowly, Clara scrambled to her feet, clutching the useless lantern in her hand so she would have something to protect herself with even though she knew that it would be a futile attempt to take on an adult boar. If it decided to go after her, Clara was utterly defenceless.

As she carefully stepped back, praying that the boar didn’t notice her, Clara tried her best to avoid the rocks and all the other traps that might cause her to fall again, but still, she screamed out loud when someone grabbed her from behind.

“Clara, what on earth is going on?!”

She gasped audibly, trying her best to focus on what was happening around her, but her pulse was going so quickly, draining the blood from her brain into her legs for flight, that she needed a moment to process what was going on.

The voice was a familiar one, but the hands on her arms were warm and gentle and only when the Hunter stepped forward and shooed away the boar just by waving his hand around did Clara remember how to breathe. The Hunter was here. She was safe.

“Oh my God, you scared me,” she uttered breathlessly, but her racing heartbeat was already beginning to calm down. Everything was going to be alright.

The Hunter chuckled softly. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t my intention,” he replied, a kindness in his voice that she was only slowly getting used to. “Your light had gone out and I saw the boar. I thought you might need my help.”

Clara breathed a sigh of relief. “I did,” she said. “Thank you. Again. I’m starting to think the forest is a dangerous place to be.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” the Hunter confirmed and Clara felt him reach for her lantern. He pulled something out of his pocket and even though the glass was broken, the lamp lit up again when he held a match to it. By the time it illuminated their surroundings, Clara had finally calmed down.

However, something didn’t seem quite right tonight. At first, it was the warmth of his touch that had confused her for a moment because she vividly remembered the cool, tingling sensation it was previously left on her skin, but tonight, something was different.

It didn’t stop at just the touch. Under the light of the kerosene lantern, Clara started to notice his clothes and even though she had never really paid attention to them, she definitely noticed that they were different this time. The Hunter had discarded his battered uniform-like attired for something a little more contemporary. Tonight, he wore a pair of trousers, a normal, white shirt and a black jacket on top of it and even though it was new to her, the clothes still looked well worn.

When the Hunter lifted the lantern a little higher, Clara gasped once again and for a long moment, she thought that maybe, her mind was playing a trick on her. It couldn’t be. It just wasn’t possible at all.

“Where are your antlers?” she blurted out because no matter how long she looked, Clara just couldn’t see them. Tonight, he looked completely ordinary. There was no old uniform, no antlers, no ghostly shimmer and his touch was warm. In disbelief, she stared at a completely human Hunter.

In return, the Hunter merely grinned at her. “No antlers tonight, I’m afraid,” he said as if it explained everything, but Clara was completely lost. She didn’t understand at all.

“I like the antlers,” she replied for lack of anything else to say and she found herself pouting a little. Even though they had scared her at first, the antlers belonged to him and his head, despite the amount of silver curls, looked a little empty without them.

The Hunter inhaled deeply and his face took on a more sombre expression. “The antlers will be back tomorrow and I’ll explain everything to you,” he promised, his voice sounding urgent. “But please, can we go somewhere that has food? I’m starving.”

Even though Clara didn’t quite understand why, she nodded and as the Hunter took her hand, the warmth of his touch once again confused her even as she led him back towards her house. Something had happened tonight. Something Clara was desperate to understand.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big hug for the lovely commenter* I'm sure you're all as eager for answers as Clara is....

The Hunter was sitting at the table like an ordinary human. No antlers, no ghostly, translucent shimmer, just an ordinary human, stuffing whatever was left over from Clara’s family dinner into his mouth. While he was so busy eating, Clara sank into the seat next to him and decided to just observe for the time being, but still, it wouldn’t make sense. He had been a ghost and now he wasn’t. Clara was desperate to figure out how that worked.

She was waiting for the right moment to voice her question, but somehow, Clara couldn’t bring herself to interrupt him. The Hunter was eating so eagerly whatever she put in front of him that it made Clara think he hadn’t eaten for weeks.

“Compliments to the cook,” he said after a while, his mouth still full with beef stew.

Frowning, Clara decided to play along for now. “I will let Jenny know you liked it,” she remarked, but even though she appeared calm on the outside, her mind was still racing.

She had seen it with her own eyes, felt it on her own skin: the Hunter wasn’t human. Clara didn’t know what exactly he really was, but certainly not that. There was still a lot about him that he hadn’t told her yet.

When the Hunter reached for the bread basket, Clara saw her chance. In a quick movement, she pulled it away, out of his reach. “No,” she told him determinedly. “I let you inside my house, I gave you food. You can exchange some answers for bread. What on earth is going on?”

For a moment, the Hunter looked completely baffled by her reaction. In the light of the kitchen, Clara looked at his face, but she couldn’t spot anything strange about it. Everything that had made him appear like a figure of myth and legend was gone and now, she found herself sitting in front of a man. Everything from the wrinkles of doubt on his forehead to the curly, silver hair on his head was normal.

“Your antlers are gone, you’re solid and your touch is warm,” Clara said, pointing at him. Still, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing with her own two eyes. “How can this be? How can you be human?”

At last, the Hunter’s features relaxed a little and even though it took a while, a smile slowly appeared on his face. It was a sad smile, one that was accompanied by sorrow and regret. “I thought you would be happy,” he said. “I thought it was a nice surprise.”

“It’s definitely a surprise,” she confirmed instantly, still furrowing her brows in his direction. “But I don’t understand how this is happening. Are you a ghost? Are you human? What are you?”

In response, the Hunter reached across the table and for a moment, Clara thought he was aiming for the bread basket. Instead, his hand landed on her own, his palm enclosing her fingers entirely. The strange tingling sensation she had always felt was back, but it was different this time, accompanied by the warmth radiating from his body as he gave her hand a soft squeeze.

“I am human for tonight,” the Hunter confirmed softly, but Clara found it hard to actually focus on his words when his touch was taking up all of her attention. Then, he said something that finally made her look up. “I’ve always been human.”

At first, Clara was confused by his statement, not understanding why he was saying that. Antlers weren’t human. A lifespan of centuries wasn’t human. Then, it finally dawned on her what he was trying to say. She was going to hear the story of his origin.

“I was human once,” the Hunter admitted. “Just like you are, just like your family is. The Hunter isn’t who I am, it’s what I became.”

Clara opened her mouth, determined to ask what had happened, but he cut her off before she had a chance and continued with the story. For now, she decided to just listen, to just hear him out. That was what she had wanted from the beginning: to find out who and what he really was.

The Hunter lowered his head and Clara could feel his hand twitch nervously as he told his story. “I was born human, I had a life as a human. Maybe not quite ordinary, maybe not a life like anyone else had, but it was human. It was a curse that turned me into what I am today several hundred years ago and since then, I’ve been the Hunter every single night save for one. I don’t really understand why, maybe it’s because the magic that cursed me is too weak, but every new moon, I turn back into a human for a single night.”

To her own surprise, Clara started to chuckle. “That explains why you’re so hungry,” she joked and instantly felt like clapping her hand over her mouth. It was an insensitive thing to say.  
However, the Hunter laughed at her remark and Clara looked up at him, examining him with her eyes. He truly was human tonight and even his cheeks had taken on a soft, rosy colour. They were flushed with the warmth of the room. But there was one question he still hadn’t answered her.

“What’s your name?” Clara wanted to know. “I mean, if you were human, you must have a name.”

The Hunter inhaled deeply and hesitated for a while as if he needed time to remember who he was. “It’s John,” he replied eventually. “But after being the Hunter for so long, I’m not sure if John is still me.”

In response, Clara smiled at him. Even if he had forgotten, she could see it plainly. It was in the way he protected the forest, in the way he had protected her, it was in every word he spoke, his boyish smile and in the way he laughed. Even when he was the Hunter, there was something deep inside his core that would always be human. “I can see it,” she said, smiling right at him. “John is still in there somewhere.”

Clara wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but suddenly, her stomach was filled with a hundred butterflies. The magic around the Hunter had lifted for tonight, but it still clung to the air, sizzling around them like energy out of control. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel, to taste just how much humanity was still left in him and she had wanted it even before tonight. It was a crazy idea, it was completely insane and yet, Clara felt herself wanting it in a way she hadn’t wanted anything for a very long time.

She leaned forward, slowly inching closer while her heart was running amok in her chest. Even though she wanted it, Clara wasn’t sure what would happen or how he thought about the matter and she could feel the excitement in every cell of her body. Just a little closer and their lips would touch…

 

When the door burst open, Clara’s torso shot around and she felt the Hunter’s hand release her own as the unwanted visitor entered the kitchen unannounced. As she looked up, Clara recognised Robert in his pyjamas.

“I, um,” the young man stammered, his eyes wandering back and forth between Clara and the Hunter, John, “I heard voices. Sorry, uh, I didn’t know you were here with…”

“John,” Clara blurted out, her voice sounding nervous. How was she going to explain this to him? “He’s a… friend… visiting.”

“I, uh, I’m sorry,” Robert apologised again, now seemingly uncomfortable in his own skin after interrupting the two of them.

Finally, Clara regained her posture. She would find a way to handle it, she was sure of that, but she didn’t have a chance to speak when John rose from his seat.

“I should probably leave,” he reasoned. “It’s getting a little late. Thank you, um, for dinner.”

Clara didn’t want him to leave. It was the last thing she wanted right now, but seeing as they had been caught by Robert, she couldn’t find the voice to argue. It wouldn’t be their last meeting, it wouldn’t be the last full moon. Even though she was curious, there was still time to talk, still time to figure it all out after the crisis was averted. For tonight, Clara realised with a heavy heart, her curiosity would have to remain unsatisfied.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As cute as their little date was, now Clara has to do some damage control. Thank you for all your lovely comment!

Clara was up before Martha or Jenny even had the chance to wake her and before breakfast, she sneaked through the corridors until she had found Robert’s room at the end of the hall. She waited impatiently, jumping from one foot to the other until the door finally opened. With a quick glance around, Clara reassured herself that no one was watching them.

“We need to talk!” Clara announced urgently and pushed Robert back inside his room.

The young man looked a little dumbfounded at the surprise visit, but he didn’t fight her as Clara ushered him into the room and closed the door behind her.

She took a deep breath, bracing herself to tell him a story she had made up last night, one that would hopefully convince him.

Yet to her surprise, Robert chuckled. “Let me guess, it’s about last night?” he wanted to know, arching his eyebrows at her.

Not knowing how else to respond, Clara simply nodded and prepared once again to lie to him about how she and John had met because she couldn’t very well tell him the truth, could she? Robert would never believe it and if he did, that would actually be worse.

“It’s not of my business,” he replied simply.

“I just want to explain-”

Yet Clara stopped mid-sentence when she saw Robert smile.

“Really, it’s not of my business,” he repeated in a kind manner. “You had a guest over and you didn’t want anyone to know. I’m sorry I just walked in like that last night.”

A weight dropped off her shoulder when she heard Robert say those words, but she needed to be absolutely certain. Clara just couldn’t take the chance of her father or Linda finding out. “I don’t want my family to know,” she said. “At least not yet.”

“Don’t worry,” Robert reassured her. “Your secret is safe with me. God knows I had secrets of my own while I was still living with my parents. Next time you want to be undisturbed, just give me a hint and I’ll stay clear, alright?”

In response, Clara breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Thank you so much.”

 

With her conscience at ease, breakfast was even more delicious and she devoured her croissants with a newly found appetite and when Clara found that she had still some time to spare before today’s classes started, she decided to do a little more research. This time, however, she decided not to do it in the library.

Last night, Clara had been awake for a long time, staring at her ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened, everything she had learned and at first, the sheer amount of new impressions and information had threatened to overwhelm her. The Hunter was neither ghost nor spirit, at least not in the traditional sense. He had been human once, just like she was, but even though he had mentioned a curse, Clara wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. In the last few weeks, her view on how the world worked that been shaken completely and it had all started with the appearance of the Hunter. Just a few weeks ago, Clara would have dismissed the idea of ghosts and curses and the like, but now, she was ready to accept anything that provided her with an answer and explained what was really happening.

However, one little detail had struck her as odd and it hadn’t occurred to her until late at night. The Hunter’s human name was John and at first, she hadn’t thought anything of it. Maybe there was nothing to it at all. A lot of people were called John and had been for centuries, but the longer she thought about it, the less it looked like a coincidence to her, so Clara had come up with a plan.

Knowing that the belongings of many former residents were still stored in the basement of the mansion, Clara made her way downstairs for the first time since her arrival. She had even brought a decent lamp so as not to miss anything that might be of importance. The staircase was steep and as soon as she had entered the dark downstairs rooms, Clara breathed in the clammy, cold air along with countless particles of dust. By the looks of it, neither her father or Linda had actually been to the basement and Clara felt her fingers tingle at the prospect of uncovering old treasures former residents had left behind that had so far not been uncovered by anyone living.

As the lamp illuminated the large room, Clara instantly spotted the mess that had been made of this storage space. Apparently, former generations had used it to dispose of all their unwanted things and no one had bothered to clear them out. Large pieces of furniture blocked her path to the other side of the room and all of them were covered in formerly white sheets that were now grey with dust and cobwebs. Suddenly, Clara started to wonder how she was going to find anything in this place. It was dark, damp and the air was so thick that one could have cut with a knife, but at least she had found a project to undertake next spring when it was warm outside and she could open all the doors and windows to let air in and dust out. For now, however, she would have to accept the fact that she had to fight her way through the disarray and cobwebs.

On the other side of the room, Clara soon reached an old desk that wasn’t covered with a sheet and the dust had gathered on the surface in a thick layer of grey. She blew on the handle of the drawer, instantly regretting her decision when the dust was catapulted in her face and Clara stepped back, coughing and waiting for it to settle again before she pulled the drawer open.  
In it, she found just what she had expected and yet not quite what she had been looking for. The papers were old and faded, but they didn’t reach as far back as she would have liked, so Clara closed the drawer again, knowing that she was in the right place, but had to dig a little deeper.

Then, she spotted it.

Clara wasn’t sure what drew her into the dark corner of the basement, but she decided to follow her instinct as she passed an old wardrobe and went down on her knees in the corner. Whatever the shape was, it was covered with an old, yellowed rag that had more than just one hole in it, so Clara drew it back in a careful manner so as not to damage what it concealed. A row of paintings came to light, old, faded and covered in dust just like the rest of the furniture, but Clara instantly knew that she had stumbled upon something very, very old.

It wasn’t the layer of dust that had given it away, nor the state of the cover, but as Clara looked at the first portrait of a woman, she recognised the style because she had seen it in many, many famous paintings of Henry VIII or Anne Boleyn. These paintings originated in the sixteenth century and Clara felt her heart skip a little beat because at last, she had found something, something that might help her understand.

The woman in the painting was a stranger at first glance, but the longer Clara looked, the more familiar the face seemed and yet, she couldn’t quite place it. Maybe she had seen it in one of the history books and she made a mental note to compare them later, but for now, Clara decided to move on. It was the second painting that made her heart stand still for a moment.

The second portrait was of a man she knew very well even though she had only met him weeks ago, but she recognised him immediately. It was the mop of grey curls on his head as well as the intense eyebrows that he had raised at her many times already and it took Clara a few seconds to confirm her suspicion, but there was no denying the truth now. The Hunter was no other than John Smith, the man who had built this house.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the lovely comments :)

“What’s up with that old painting?”

Clara turned her head, only now noticing that Martha had stuck her head through the cracked door, probably to check in on her one last time before killing the lights in the entire house. Clara smiled at her, knowing that she couldn’t possibly tell her maid the truth, although she was probably the one least likely to call her insane.

“I found it in the basement when I was going through all the old things,” she replied truthfully and turned back to look at the likeness of John, the Hunter. It really was a stunning portrait that had captured him perfectly.

After finding it, Clara had managed to sneak him and the unknown woman upstairs to her room before leaving for school and she had dusted them off to be able to see their faces properly. Here, in the light of her bedroom, Clara could see the expression on John’s face more clearly, but it didn’t really help her understand at all. To understand, she would have to ask him and hope that he would finally tell her the whole story.

“It’s John Smith,” Clara went on to explain when she felt Martha’s questioning gaze still on her. “He built this house back in the sixteenth century.”

The maid finally entered the room and stepped a little closer towards the painting to get a better look. As she cocked her head, Martha looked thoughtful at the likeness of the Hunter. “He looks sad,” she observed, but Clara felt like it was only one of the many emotions that had been going through his head during the painting process. However, Martha had already moved on from the subject. “Will you be needing anything else tonight?”

Clara turned her head away from the painting and smiled at Martha once more. “No, thank you. I’m about to fall asleep,” she lied.

The maid nodded and when Clara lay down on her bed, Martha turned off the lights on her way out. Yet Clara had no intention of actually going to sleep just yet. She had questions that could only be answered by going into the woods and seeking out the Hunter once again.

 

Just like he had done several nights before, the Hunter was waiting for her by the line of trees as she entered the forest and Clara granted him a smile. He was back to his old self tonight, shimmering translucently and bearing the set of impressive antlers on top of his head. Right now, Clara wasn’t entirely sure what she preferred: the ghostly Hunter or John the human, but she guessed that there was room in her heart for both of them.

“Hi,” she whispered excitedly as she closed the distance between them and came to a halt next to his tall body. Had he been this tall in his human form? Clara couldn’t say, but she didn’t think it mattered much.

The Hunter grinned at her in response and once again, Clara thought it John rather the Hunter who was smiling at her. Even though he might not remember much of his human life, it was still inside him in more ways than he probably thought because she could see it clearly.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Clara said as they began their walk and ventured into the forest. “My reaction to… well, you know, I was quite surprised. I never know what to expect with you.”

The Hunter scoffed softly. “It’s alright. I probably should have mentioned that part before,” he replied. “But it’s been a while since I’ve had a… friend. I don’t really know what to do in this situation.”

He sounded a little nervous and Clara’s heart warmed up at the mention of their friendship. Even though curiosity was what had driven her towards the Hunter in the first place, a friendship with him was what she really wanted and somehow, it felt as if it was all meant to be, as if she didn’t really have a choice but to be with him.

“Can we talk about last night?” Clara found herself asking. “Because I don’t understand and I want to. I want to know everything there is to know about you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Hunter turn his head and when she looked at him, he was cocking his eyebrows at her. Not know what else to do, Clara reached out and took his hand in her own. Tonight, she again felt the cool tingling of his skin and suddenly, Clara felt herself regretting that she hadn’t kissed him last night.

She pushed the thoughts aside as quickly as they had come and decided to focus on what really mattered. “You told me your name was John and that you were cursed,” she said. “Today, I found an old portrait in the basement, one that looks just like you. You’re John Smith, aren’t you? You’re the man who built the manor?”

The Hunter looked straight ahead and Clara heard him exhaled sharply, but the white clouds of breath she had expected to see never appeared. His body was part of the forest and it radiated no warmth whatsoever.

“Yes,” he replied eventually, his voice sounding thoughtful. “I was once John Smith and this land was given to me by the king as a favour.”

Clara frowned at him, determined to dig a little deeper. She had read about him in the old books, she knew that part of the story. What she didn’t know was how he had come to be cursed, how he had become the Hunter.

“You were supposed to marry,” she went on carefully.

Once more, the Hunter scoffed, only this time, there was a hint of anger in it as if there was a grudge he had been carrying around for centuries. “Missy, yes” he confirmed. “She was a unique woman and I should have considered myself lucky. She would have made an excellent wife and lady of this house, but I didn’t want her and that’s what led to my curse.”

“What?” Clara asked in disbelief. “You scorned a woman and she cursed you? To be _this_?”

A chuckle escaped from the Hunter’s throat, but there was no humour in it, only sadness. “Witches still existed at that time, I don’t think they do today, at least none that I’ve heard of. But yes, that’s exactly what happened. I was a restless man, an adventurer and back then, the greatest curse I could image was to be bound to one place, to be bound to one person. I didn’t want to marry Missy even though, at that time, I loved her. I didn’t want to be stuck here and live out my life like everyone else, so she cursed me to a fate much, much worse.”

The Hunter turned his head and the look he gave her made Clara stop. As her feet came to a halt, she noticed that her hand was still entwined with his and that it was trembling.

“Missy bound me to this place for eternity,” he explained. “I can’t leave and I have to carry out my duty, the duty I refused to carry out when I was human, to protect this land and whoever resides in my old house.”

Clara breathed out heavily, but she couldn’t find the words to express how sorry she felt about the dreadful thing that had been done to him. She couldn’t even imagine what it felt like to have her biggest fear turned into her fate. It was horrible.

“Isn’t there anything that can lift the curse?” she wanted to know.

For a moment, it seemed as if the Hunter was going to speak, but then, he just granted her a sad smile in return. She wanted to open her mouth and ask about it, ask if there was anything she could do to help, but during their brief friendship, Clara had already come to know that he would only tell her something when he thought it was the right time. So instead of pressuring him further, Clara decided to use a little empathy.

“I know it’s not a consolation, but I get it,” she confessed. “I get why you didn’t want to marry her. I know what that feels like.”

Surprised, the Hunter frowned at her. “How so?”

Clara inhaled deeply, knowing that now was the time for a little confession on her part. “I was married once and I lost my husband during the war,” she admitted. “Everyone keeps saying that I’m still young and that there is still time for me to meet someone else, but I’m not sure I even want to. I gave my heart to someone once, just like you had given your heart to your adventures and I don’t think there is space left in mine for someone else. I don’t ever want to get married again.”

In a sudden, abrupt movement, the Hunter pulled his hand away from hers and stepped back, looking at her with utter disbelief and shock that made Clara think she had said something wrong. Was this the point where he was going to join in with the rest of her family and tell her that she just had to meet the right person?

“What’s wrong?” Clara asked, frowning at his sudden change of mood. He hadn’t even said anything, but it was still apparent from the expression on his face. Something had upset him.

“Nothing,” he half barked at her, an obvious lie. “It’s late. I should bring you back to the house.”

“I don’t want to,” she argued instantly, a hint of anger showing in her voice. “I don’t want to go home just yet.”

What had gotten into him all of a sudden? Clara didn’t understand.

“But I want you to,” he replied angrily, his eyes glowering at her in the night light. If she hadn’t known him, Clara would have been scared of him right now, but as it was, she only knew that something was wrong, something he refused to tell her about and if that was the case, Clara couldn’t help him.

“Fine,” she spat and turned around on the spot, stomping back towards the house without even saying goodnight. As soon as he was ready to talk, Clara would listen, but she wasn’t going to force an ancient spirit to talk.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clara is mad at the Hunter and probably rightly so. Will he be able to make it up to her?
> 
> Thank you guys for your lovely (and slightly angry) comments :)

“Why did you send her away?”

The Hunter shot around, glowering at the animal that had come to rest on a nearby branch, its head turned to face him in a curious manner. Right now, that owl could consider itself lucky to be out of reach or else he might have strangled it.

“If you listened in, you know very well what she said!” the Hunter barked back at the owl.

It was hopeless even though, for a moment, he had been tempted to believe that he could be saved, that someone was willing to save him, but even though Clara was curious and she spent time with him, in the end, she was like everyone else. That last glimmer of hope he had felt had faded away with her words. His curse would never be broken and the Hunter regretted giving in to the joyous feeling of esperance.

His heart ached at the memory of Clara’s face during that moment he had yelled at her to go home, that tiny look of shock and horror and surprise and the Hunter knew that he had hurt her, but his surfacing anger wasn’t something he had wanted her to see. The anger wasn’t even directed at Clara but at himself for being so foolish as to believe there was hope when he should have given up centuries ago. Missy had known him too well, she had known exactly what to do to punish him for all eternity, all the while taunting him with his own hopes that just wouldn’t die and just kept on hurting him over and over again with each failure.

His brave owl landed on his shoulders and gave a reassuring hoot, but the Hunter wasn’t in the mood to listen tonight, not after what Clara had said. However, the anger was slowly giving way to sadness as he once again accepted that his state was permanent. He could live with that, well, not live since he wasn’t technically alive, but his existence had become somewhat bearable over the centuries. What the Hunter couldn’t take were his recurring bouts of hope and the disappointment of a broken heart that followed them. He was sure that Missy had known that when she had uttered the curse.

“It’s hopeless,” the Hunter said eventually, his voice weary with all the disenchantment of centuries past. “I’m afraid you will have to put up with me for all eternity.”

Yet the owl uttered a chuckling hoot in response. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” it replied cheekily.

Really, why did that animal think it knew better?

“You heard her,” the Hunter went on. “You heard what she said. She lost her husband and doesn’t want to get married ever again. I know it’s been a while, but I’m sure you’ll recall the conditions of lifting my curse.”

Missy had always been smart, but when John Smith had broken her heart, it had brought out a cunning in her that had devised the most perfect curse. John had wanted to leave, to go out into the world and have the most daring adventures, the Hunter was cursed to remain in this forest forever, protecting what he had been so eager to leave behind. John had run away from the woman he had loved, trying to escape marriage and the only way to lift the curse was for the Hunter to find a woman willing to marry him. Clara, the last woman in the bloodline, was his final chance to atone for the mistakes of his past and she didn’t want him, just like her mother hadn’t wanted him before Clara. He was forever trapped in the same place, walking a fine line between not dead and never fully alive. It was the most devious curse Missy could have placed on him.

“I heard what she said,” the owl retorted. “However, her actions are telling a different story.”

The Hunter scoffed, not really knowing what that was even supposed to mean and he decided that it was probably wiser not to listen to his companion anyway. He had been the Hunter for so long that he started to accept his fate. It was his stupid hope that kept getting in the way. Sometimes, he thought, he was better off without the remaining traces of humanity inside him.

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” the owl continued thoughtfully. “She was already enamoured with you before she knew you could turn back into a human once a month and that’s only going to make her more curious about you.”

“Curiosity isn’t love,” the Hunter spat defiantly. “And it’s certainly not enough to make her marry me. I know that Clara is my last chance, but if she really doesn’t want to marry again, I’m not going to force.”

“No one’s talking about forcing anyone,” his companion argued. It hooted stubbornly, causing the Hunter to glare at it and wonder why he hadn’t picked a better friend. Foxes were a lot less talkative. “Clara is special. She’s different from the others.”

The Hunter snorted. He really shouldn’t listen to that damned owl any longer.

“She can touch you.”

At last, there was an argument he could no longer ignore because it was true. No one, not even Ellie had been able to do that before Clara. To even have the owl sit on his shoulder required some kind of mental effort. Somehow, Clara was able to touch him and it was the strangest and sweetest things the Hunter had felt in centuries. It was also one he didn’t understand.

During the moments he was left alone, the Hunter had already brooded over the matter, wondering what was wrong and why it was happening now. Had something changed? Had _he_ changed? Was it some kind of final warning before his chance of lifting the curse faded forever? The Hunter didn’t know.

“Not all is lost just yet,” the owl tried to reassure him. “Clara has only known you for a few weeks. Give it time. Get to know her. Let her get to know you. She might change her mind.”

Slowly, the Hunter shook his head. He had known Ellie since her childhood, he had seen her grow from a curious, little girl into a woman and he had loved her every step of the way - just another part of his curse. But none of that had been enough to make her stay. In the end, she had left him for another man despite his begging and his pleading. On his knees, the Hunter had asked Ellie to marry him, finally admitting to her what it took to break his damned curse, and it had driven her away. After that fateful night during which he had abandoned all hope, the Hunter had only ever seen her once again when the infant Clara had walked into his forest.

“When I told Ellie, she left me. What makes you think this is going to be different?” the Hunter wanted to know, turning his attention back to his feathery friend.

The owl imitated a shrug. “I don’t, but it’s worth a try, isn’t it?” it asked. “Just give it time and maybe, try to be a little nicer.”

The Hunter blew the air out between his teeth, knowing full well that being nice wasn’t exactly his biggest strength. But what if the owl was right? It was his very last chance after all and his heart was already breaking. How much worse could one last bit of hope really be? How much did it cost him to just give it a try one last time?

“Fine,” he hissed eventually, cursing himself internally for letting a stupid animal change his mind. The Hunter would very likely regret it, but what other choice did he have if he wanted to beat Missy’s curse?


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments :)

Over the course of the day, Clara had had a long and thorough debate with herself about whether or not she should return to the forest tonight. A part of her wanted to because of the invisible strings of fate that seemed to pull her towards the Hunter and another part wanted to leave him to stew in his own juice for a while longer after the way he had acted towards her. Of course, Clara assumed that there was a good reason for his outburst, but since he seemed unwilling to share that reason with her, it was time for her to take a step back.

Still, in her mind, Clara kept wondering what had brought about his change in mood. As she sat on her bed, brushing hair her, her eyes continued to wander towards the painting where John Smith stared back at her with kindness and a hint of mischievousness. It couldn’t have been easy for him to suddenly be confined to one spot after a lifetime of adventuring and travelling, so naturally, John had wanted to break free. What Missy had done to him in an act of revenge was monstrous.

Clara had hidden Missy’s painting away behind that of the Hunter because she couldn’t bear to look at it. At first, she had blamed it on her horrific acts, but in her heart, Clara knew that it wasn’t entirely the truth. There was something about her that seemed… odd, something that seemed familiar and the familiarity frightened her. Maybe Clara even understood why Missy had done it and in those moments she understood, there seemed to be a bond between them, not much unlike the fateful strings that tied her to the Hunter, but it was a connection Clara didn’t want and didn’t like. So eventually, she had placed the portrait out of sight just so she wouldn’t have to think about it any longer.

The Hunter’s eyes, however, continued to stare at her and the longer Clara looked, the more she wavered in her decision to stay at home tonight. There was still time for her to change her mind, still time to throw on her coat and head outside, but no, she was determined to stick to her decision. But as she turned around to lie down, Clara spotted something odd and uttered a gasp.

The first moment of shock subsided quite quickly but still, the sight was an unusual one and Clara frowned at the seemingly severed hand that was sticking out of her wall, holding a bouquet of flowers. Coco looked up from her sleeping spot, but once she realised it was the Hunter who had come to visit, she quickly lay back down. Somehow, animals seemed completely unfazed by his appearance.

She sighed audibly. “I know you mean well, but do you realise how wrong this looks?” Clara asked him, the annoyance showing in her voice before the Hunter stepped through the wall, wearing an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled quietly.

Somehow, it seemed a lot harder to stay mad at him when the Hunter stood in her room, his head lowered and the bouquet of flowers dangling pitifully from his hand. Then, a question came to her mind.

“Where did you even get these? It’s November,” Clara argued. She had been to the forest and to the meadows and she knew that it was impossible to find a blossoming flower at this time of year and the Hunter could hardly go to a shop and buy a bouquet.

“It’s, um,” he said coyly, “it’s one of the things I can do as… forest spirit. Bring things back to life. Small things. Like flowers.”

Clara accepted the bouquet thankfully as he handed it to her and she felt her heart soften at the sweet gesture, making it even harder to stay mad at him, but still, she didn’t quite want to let his behaviour go unpunished.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful,” she replied truthfully. Then, Clara took a deep breath and sat down, patting the empty spot next to herself and indicating for the Hunter to follow her lead. While he sank down on the mattress, Clara noticed that it hardly sank in under his weight and it reminded her once again that he wasn’t fully human. He could walk through walls, probably people, too, he didn’t occupy the same space as a normal person would and yet, to Clara, he was just as real as everyone else - and that meant she would scold him for his behaviour just like she would a fellow human. Yet when she opened her mouth, the Hunter cut off her off immediately.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he apologised quickly. “The way I acted, when I sent you away, that wasn’t nice. I’m sorry.”

Slowly, Clara nodded. He seemed to have rehearsed his apology, even revived and picked flowers just to let her know how sorry he was, but still, it came out more as nervous rambling than a well laid out speech which was proof of how sincere it was. He really meant it.

“It wasn’t nice, you’re right,” Clara confirmed. “And I would like to know why you did it. I was telling you my story, I was telling you about my own pain and you sent me away. That hurt.”

“I didn’t mean to,” the Hunter said. He still didn’t look at her and kept his gaze firmly in his own lap as if he was afraid to meet her eyes. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a friend. I just… I never know what to say and I’m afraid of saying the wrong thing and then I just… mess up.”

Finally, the Hunter looked up and even though he tried his best to hold her gaze, his eyes kept flicking back and forth between her lips and her hair, not quite able to settle at a specific point. He was still nervous, still uncertain. “I’m sorry about what happened with your husband,” he explained eventually. “You deserve better than that, better than early widowhood. I’m sorry that the world is unfair and took away the man you loved. I’m sorry that his death caused you so much pain that you would prefer to stay alone rather than risk living through the same loss once more.”

Clara inhaled deeply and she felt his words tug at her heart because he had understood something no one had ever seen before, something she was still trying to keep a secret from herself. It was the pain Danny’s death had caused her and the fear of experiencing it all over again that made her so adamant about never marrying again. All those stories she told everyone else, it was just a part of a bigger truth, but the Hunter had seen straight through it. Was that another one of his gifts? Mind reading? Clara doubted it. There was a connection between them, tying them together in ways Clara couldn’t yet comprehend. The same force that made her return to the Hunter over and over again caused him to understand her in ways nobody else could without her having to say a word. It was eerie, in a way, but also comforting and reassuring.

“I don’t know,” Clara suddenly found herself saying. She wasn’t quite sure where the words were coming from and what was making her say them, but they tumbled out of her mouth with no chance of stopping them. The Hunter looked up at her, frowning, not knowing what she was talking about. “What I said last night, about never wanting to marry again, everyone keeps saying that I will find someone else and I keep denying it, but maybe I will.”

Her heart was hammering inside her chest at the sudden possibilities and Clara didn’t even understand why. For years, she had kept that thought locked up in a box inside her head, but now that it was free, now that there was an actual chance, she suddenly felt nervous and her hands started to tremble. She couldn’t even put into words what she was feeling because she didn’t understand what that feeling was, but there was a sudden outburst of hope inside her mind, flooding her brain with the endless possibilities that she had denied herself up until now and the sensation threatened to overpower her completely. It took Clara a long time to realise that what she was actually feeling was happiness and by then, it was too late to stop it.

In a sudden rush, brought on by the sudden release of all those bottled up feelings, Clara bent forward and did what she had wanted to do for quite a while. Their lips met with a spark, with a strange, cool tingling and even though he must have been surprised, the Hunter reacted to her instantly. As he parted his lips for her, Clara felt something too good, too strange to ever put into words or try to explain and she yielded to his kiss, revelling in the excitement and the sensation his touch left on her skin. Right now, despite the coolness of his skin, despite the almost electrical sizzling, he seemed entirely human to her and she started to miss the feeling of his lips from the moment they parted to catch their breath.

The Hunter looked at her, eyes wide with confusion, and all Clara could do was to smile at him. Only now did she remember the topic of their conversation and the words finally formed in her mouth.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I forgive for last night, John.”

He was the Hunter no longer despite his ghostly glow. From the moment she had kissed him, he was only John in her eyes and Clara realised that he was a man she could very possibly learn to love.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the lovely, lovely comments :) But things have been a little too quiet lately, haven't they?

Clara woke up with a smile, just like she had all the previous mornings when her eyes fell on the bouquet of flowers on her bedside table. It had been almost a month since that night, almost a month since their first and only kiss because so far, Clara had failed to muster up the courage to do it again. Tonight, that would change because tonight was the night of the new moon and John would finally be human again.

Something strange had happened and by that, Clara didn’t mean the flowers that were still in full bloom even after four weeks. Whatever spell John had put on them, it continued to last even though it should have been impossible. But the true magic had happened inside her heart the moment she had admitted to him that maybe, she would find love again after all. Clara’s heart still ached with the loss of Danny and it would probably continue to do so until the day she died, yet a part of that pain had lifted the moment she had allowed herself to hope. The confession, as well as their kiss, had changed something in her and it had brightened up her entire life in just one simple moment.

Clara had thought about taking that step, she had thought about deciding to leave Danny behind, but she had never been able to bring herself to do it, but there was something about John that had just caused the words to tumble out of her mouth. At that moment, under those particular circumstances, it had been the absolutely right thing to say, the right step to take. She didn’t know where it would lead from there, but for the first time, Clara wasn’t afraid. Right now, she wasn’t quite ready, but she was willing to move in the right direction.

When the door to her room opened, both Clara and Coco looked up and the dog instantly jumped off the bed to greet Martha, eager to receive her breakfast. The maid smiled at the two of them, but somehow, Clara had the impression that she was happier to see the dog than the owner. Coco had already managed to make friends.

“Good morning,” Martha greeted her in her usual friendly manner. “Did you sleep well?”

Clara smiled to herself, only now remembering the dream she had had throughout the night, a wonderful dream about herself, running through the forest in a warm summer night. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Very well. What’s for breakfast today?”

Ever since Clara had started to undertake her nightly endeavours, she usually woke up hungry, if not starved, and last night, she and John had walked for quite a long time. It seemed odd that she didn’t feel at all tired.

“The usual,” Martha responded. “Your family and Robert are downstairs already.”

At that, Clara grinned at the maid. “I supposed I should get ready then. Shouldn’t let them wait.”

 

Clara jumped out of bed and got dressed in a hurry, eager to start a wonderful day with a hearty breakfast, followed by two classes at school and tonight, she would receive John for a late dinner. The excitement was palpable in her every cell and she had come up with an excellent plan for this special night. Once everyone had gone to sleep, she would sneak into the kitchen and prepare John a nice meal for the one day he turned back into a human and Clara was determined to repeat their kiss. Now that she came to think about that part, her excitement mingled with nervousness and she pushed the thought aside as she entered the dining room so as not to give off the impression that she was up to something. Tonight, she needed to be completely undisturbed.

Her father, Linda and Robert were already sitting at the breakfast table, conversing eagerly over a topic Clara had yet to catch. She smiled as she took her usual seat and wished everyone a good morning, but after the initial greeting, her father and Robert turned towards each other again. Obviously, their conversation was a very interesting one.

“Don’t pay attention to them,” Linda remarked, disgruntled. “They’ve arrived at the _man topics_.”

“The _man topics_?” Clara asked while she reached for a roll, now even more interested in the subject than before. “What exactly qualifies as a _man topic_?”

“Oh, nothing really interesting,” Robert replied politely. Obviously, he was lying. They seemed to find the topic interesting enough. “I was just telling your father about our family tradition.”

Clara cocked her eyebrows, indicating that she also wanted to find out what that tradition was. Her father, however, made a waving gesture.

“We can’t do that here, I’m afraid,” he said. When he sighed, it sounded almost sad.

Finally, Clara was beginning to run out of patience. She hated sitting at a table and not being included in the conversation that was going on around her even though Linda, newspaper in her hand, didn’t seem to share the same displeasure. Clara left her anger to boil for a few more moments and then interrupted her father mid-sentence.

“Okay, can someone tell me what on earth you two are talking about?!” she demanded grumpily, tired of being talked over like a child.

At last, both Robert and her father turned their attention towards Clara, but she didn’t fail to notice the patronising smile the young man was giving her. “In my family, late November or early December us usually hunting season. We always go on a stag hunt when the animals get a little careless in search of food,” Robert explained.

“But I was already telling Robert that we can’t do it here,” her father continued and Clara felt a weight drop off her shoulders.

She could very well imagine what would happen if Robert indeed decided to go into the forest to hunt and it wasn’t a pretty image in her mind. She remembered the tales all too vividly, the mental image of the boys with white hair and eyes opened in shock.

“Yes, because of some urban legend,” the young man argued, snorting as if he thought it was a silly superstition. “You have such a beautiful forest here. Are you really going to stay away from it just because the people from this village believe in fairytales?”

Her father granted Robert a friendly smile. “A law was passed to prevent anyone from hunting in the forest. Whether or not it derived from a superstition doesn’t matter. Hunting isn’t allowed.”

“You own this forest,” the man went on, gawking at Clara’s father in utter disbelief. “Trust me, I’m a lawyer. That kind of law exempts you. It was passed so the nearby villagers wouldn’t steal your game.”

In horror, Clara realised that her father was beginning to waver in his decision and that was something she couldn’t allow. The forest was sacred ground and the Hunter was bound to it by a curse. Whether or not the people entering the forest were her family and friends didn’t matter - if they entered it with ill intent, they would die and Clara had to stop that from happening no matter what it took.

“I don’t think you should go on a hunt,” Clara found herself saying. Her voice trembled a little and even though she tried to sound confident, she didn’t quite manage. “Law is law and just because we own the forest doesn’t mean we can do whatever the hell we please. And it doesn’t matter what the reason is, if the local villagers are scared of anyone entering the forest, we shouldn’t frighten them further. Besides, there is a butcher in the nearby town that sells excellent stag meat. There’s no reason to go out and kill a living being just for the fun of it when you can eat an animal that is already dead. It’s a pure waste.”

Robert snorted. “I’m not hunting for the fun of it,” he argued instantly, sounding amused by her accusation.

“Oh?” Clara cocked her eyebrows at him. “What? You need to hunt for survival? You’re going to starve otherwise? If not, you’re killing for fun and that’s disgusting.”

Suddenly, her dad leaned in a little further, addressing Robert directly. “Could you make sure? That the law doesn’t apply to us, I mean.”

The young lawyer nodded. “Of course. I’ll look it up at work today.”

“Good,” her father confirmed, a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’s been ages since I’ve been on a proper hunt, but I will only do it if the legal things are cleared up.”

Robert seemed utterly pleased with himself. “I’ll look it up straight away,” he promised.

Not knowing what else to do, Clara rose from her chair and stormed out of the dining room. The day had started so beautifully and now, she had a lot more problems to worry about. Somehow, she had to stop the hunt from happening, she had to prevent her father and Robert from entering the forest or otherwise, they would both be dead.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, my faithful readers :) Guess we can all agree that we hate Robert?

The Hunter chewed his food carefully and with a hint of a guilty conscience, always glancing over the table towards Clara who kept pushing her dinner around the plate rather than eating it. It was the night of the new moon, the only night he was fully human and even though he was starving, the Hunter did his best to display at least some table manners for his company’s sake when in fact he would like nothing more than to swallow the contents of his plate. However, the guilty conscience kept on nagging him tonight because he could clearly feel that something was wrong and he didn’t want it to be. In fact, he had hoped for this night with Clara to be special.

“You really didn’t have to cook for me,” the Hunter remarked after a long moment of silence. Usually, they quickly found one topic or another to talk about, but something seemed to be on her mind tonight, occupying her thoughts.

Finally, Clara looked up from her plate and mustered up a smile. “I wanted to cook,” she reassured him. “I mean, you’re only human once a month. That’s a cause for celebration.”

Even as she smiled, even as she reassured him with her words, there was something else. The unspoken words on the tip of her tongue were almost palpable and she still hadn’t actually eaten anything.

The Hunter felt a bit at a loss. It had been almost a month since their first kiss and since then, he had given up on his original plan to abandon hope because the owl was right: not all was lost just yet. Maybe, Clara would change her mind. Maybe, Clara would fall in love with him eventually and maybe, she would agree to marry him. Over the centuries, there had been a few women that had made an end to his curse seem possible, but even Clara’s mother Ellie had retreated once she had learned just what his freedom entailed. Would Clara be different at last? Would she be willing to commit herself to him for life just to save him? Could he even ask that of her?

All of these questions aside, there was one thing the Hunter was positively certain of: he had enjoyed their kiss. In fact, he had loved it. The moment their lips had met, he had felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries despite his ghostly shape. Even tonight, while he was fully human, there was something missing and that something was the moment of excitement when he had come alive under Clara’s touch.

Eventually, the Hunter set his fork aside and pushed his chair back, beckoning Clara to come to him. But instead of following his invitation, she merely threw him a quizzically look.

“What?” she wanted to know, uttering a slightly nervous laugh.

In return, the Hunter smiled at her. “There’s something on your mind. I want to help you and over the centuries, I’ve picked up a few tricks.”

Only reluctantly, Clara rose from her chair and crossed the room, only for them both to realise that there was no chair for her to sit on next to him. The Hunter was ready to stand up as well even though he would have preferred to do this sitting down when Clara suddenly took the initiative and lowered herself to sit on his lap.

At first, the sudden body contact made him nervous and he felt her presence and her proximity in every cell of his human body. It was like electricity and he vaguely remembered feeling like this as a young man. He had almost forgotten this sensation existed. However, the Hunter decided to focus and tried his best to push his human feelings and urges aside. There was a time and a place and this wasn’t it.

Gently, the Hunter raised his hands to Clara’s temples, touching her skin with the tip of his fingers. “Close your eyes,” he whispered gently and Clara did as she was told. “I’m going to make the nagging thoughts go away."

He was human alright, but even in those nights he wasn’t the Hunter, in those nights he was John, there was still something about him that was different and he could only blame it on the centuries he had walked this earth already. Maybe it was a telepathic gift he had always had and never fully discovered until centuries later, maybe it was just a part of the Hunter that lingered even in his human form, but he could use it to help Clara tonight. By gently touching her temples, the Hunter carefully projected an image of peace onto her mind, lifting the fog that was clouding her mood tonight.

Suddenly, Clara started to giggle. “It tickles a bit,” she remarked and when the Hunter looked at her, she still had her eyes closed, her face serene for the first time since he had stepped into her home tonight.

The Hunter knew that he should probably give her a warning, but then again, she hadn’t exactly warned him the last time. There was something about her that made it impossible for him to resist as she sat on his lap, her eyes closed and a light smile playing around the corners of her lips. His hands moved away from her temples, cupping her face in his palms and the Hunter leaned forward until their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss.

It was a sensation he hadn’t even known he missed until Clara had kissed him almost a month ago and now, as she yielded to him, he knew that he would continue to miss it every single day until Clara was back in his arms again. Even though he had forgotten so many aspects of being human, right now, he was just a man, a man who was slowly beginning to fall in love with a beautiful, clever, extraordinary woman. The Hunter’s heart was beating so quickly, almost causing his hands to tremble with excitement, and his thoughts were running haywire, mingling with Clara’s as his telepathic gift continued to connect them in their moment of intimacy.

Then, he saw something in her mind and instantly pulled back.

Clara opened her eyes at last and at first, she was smiling at him, but the expression soon gave way to one of confusion as she realised that something had happened. “What’s wrong?” she wanted to know.

The Hunter needed a moment to make sense of what he had seen, of what he had heard in Clara’s head - unintentionally, of course. His only aim had been to clear her mind off anything that might trouble her without invading the privacy of her thoughts, but now that he had seen it, he could no longer ignore it.

“They’re planning to go on a hunt,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. It was a simple statement, but it wasn’t one Clara could deny. The Hunter had seen it. “Your father and that other man, they’re planning to invade my forest.”

Clara’s gaze darkened instantly and she knitted her eyebrows at him. “You’re reading my thoughts?!”

As she jumped up from his lap, the Hunter followed her example and rose to his feet, knowing that this was a conversation better had standing up. There had to be a way for her to prevent it, otherwise…

“You need to stop the hunt, Clara!” he implored her instantly, ignoring her accusation for now. “They can’t go into the forest with the intention of killing!”

In response, Clara snorted. “Trust me, I’ve tried. They won’t listen.”

“You have to try harder.” Without meaning to, the Hunter reached out and grabbed Clara by the arms a little more roughly than he had intended to. Her warning look made him back off immediately. “Please, you have to stop it.”

The Hunter wanted so much to tell her, he wanted her to understand, but a part of him was still afraid that she would leave him - just like her mother had when she had eventually learned the truth. The only chance he had was for the hunt to never take place at all.

“Clara, I’m begging you,” he said desperately. “You have to prevent it at any cost. They can’t come into the forest.”

He watched her swallow hard, but soon, it was followed by a nod. “I’ll try,” she promised.

And the Hunter sincerely hoped that she would succeed.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big hug to Whiteasy for the lovely comment :)

As much as Clara would have loved to spend her day thinking about their second kiss, she knew that there were more pressing matters to attend to. It didn’t matter how he had learned of the hunt, it didn’t matter what had happened between them a few moments before that, Clara knew that she had to stop her father and Robert from entering the forest at any cost.

There was something about the way John had pleaded with her last night that had made her think about something she hadn’t actually considered before, at least not properly. The Hunter was a killer. He had killed people over centuries to protect his forest and something told her that he wasn’t enjoying that part of his curse, if there was anything about it at all that he enjoyed. If she could spare him that, if she could save the life of her father and Robert, Clara would try her best.

Straight after breakfast, Clara had gone back into the mansion’s library and accumulated every single account she could of the Hunter and what he had done to protect what was his. Armed with all the knowledge she could gather, she eventually headed back downstairs where she found her father and Robert in the dining room. They stopped their conversation as soon as Clara entered and it made her think that it was once again about their planned hunt, the very undertaking Clara was determined to prevent.

“Hey,” Clara greeted them in a friendly manner, trying her very best to sound cheerful. She even put on a smile for the two men. “What are you talking about so intensely?”

A proud expression of satisfaction crossed over Robert’s face and Clara instantly began to fear the worst. “I just gave your father the good news. The law that was passed to prevent people from hunting in the forest definitely does not include the owner of the estate,” he announced happily. “Your father is very much in his right to do whatever he wants inside the forest.”

From out of the background, her father granted her an apologetic smile. He was a good man and he had always listened to his daughter, so he had to know that she was very much opposed to the idea and yet, he was torn because going on the hunt was obviously something he would like to do. Clara still had a chance to convince him.

“I don’t think you should,” Clara announced in a voice she usually reserved for scolding schoolchildren as she placed her books on the table in front of her father and Robert. “It’s not just that I’m generally against hunting, but I think you should do it elsewhere. I think there’s a reason they passed the law and it has nothing to do with stealing game.”

Both her father and Robert instantly bent over the pages that Clara and opened and while her father didn’t seem the least bit surprised - probably because he had heard of the Hunter before - Robert continued to frown at the books for a long moment. Then, he burst into laughter.

“Seriously? This old wives’ tale?” he snorted, not even lifting his gaze to look at Clara. “I had taken you for an intelligent woman, Clara, one that no longer believes in fairytales.”

“Fairytale or not,” Clara retorted angrily, “people have died in that forest and the villagers are scared. If you don’t believe me, talk to Martha, talk to anyone who lives in the nearby town. They’ll tell you the same thing.”

Once again, Robert scoffed and in her despair, Clara turned her attention towards her father. If she couldn’t convince Robert, maybe she could convince at least her father. “What do you think?” she wanted to know.

David Oswald inhaled deeply and his moment of hesitation told Clara that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation, but whether he believed the tales or not, she really couldn’t say. She hoped that he would believe her enough to call off the hunt.

“I’ve heard of the Hunter, yes,” her father eventually said, his voice grave and heavy. “Your mother was convinced that he was real.”

That was because her mother had known him, actually known him. Somehow, Clara doubted that she had ever told her father the whole story, but she would have hinted at it at least. Maybe that was enough.

“But it’s a fairytale,” David Oswald concluded. “One that has scared people away from the forest more thoroughly than the law they’ve passed. Maybe, if we go into the forest and come back unharmed, they’ll finally realise that there’s nothing dangerous inside the woods and they’ll live more calmly.”

Clara felt her heart sink when she realised that it was hopeless. Robert didn’t believe her. Her father didn’t believe her. There was absolutely nothing she could do now to convince them to blow off the endeavour without admitting that she had met the Hunter and even then, they were more likely to call her insane rather than abandoning their plan. Her last chance at saving them was John. She had to talk to him once more.

* * *

Later than usual, Clara headed outside, glad to finally be able to leave the house undetected. Her father and Robert had stayed up for a long while, making plans for their hunt the following Sunday and Clara cursed herself for being unable to prevent it from happening. Her last chance was to talk to John once again, imploring him to spare their lives.

As she entered the forest on her usual path, Clara soon found that John was already waiting for her, his tall body leaning against a nearby try under the soft moonlight and he was made even taller by the set of antlers on top of his head. Even after knowing him for several weeks now, Clara couldn’t help but think what an impressive and handsome figure he was, strange as it seemed with the animalistic features and old, tattered clothes. In her heart, however, Clara knew that he wasn’t the Hunter, he was John Smith, a human who had been cursed by a spurned woman. She felt her heart skip a little beat as she remembered their kiss from last night, but decided to push back the thought until more important matters were settled.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” John greeted her in a low voice and a hint of concern was audible in it.

Clara smiled at him in return. “I had to wait until my family had gone to sleep,” she explained, but her face swiftly took on a more serious expression. John seemed to notice it immediately and he pushed himself away from the tree to approach her. “We need to talk, John. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t talk my father and Robert out of going hunting tomorrow.”

John’s hands came to rest on her arms when he had finally reached her and he bent down just a little, his eyes pleading with her. “You have to stop it, Clara, at any cost.” His voice was calm, but there was still an urgency behind it that made her regret she hadn’t been able to convince her father. “I don’t want to hurt the people you love.”

“Then don’t,” Clara told him simply.

Then, she heard John take a deep, hissing breath. “I don’t think I have a choice. This thing that I am, the Hunter, protecting the forest is a part of him. I can’t act against that. I can’t stop it when it starts. It’s beyond my control.”

Slowly, Clara shook her head. “I don’t believe that,” she argued. “You’re John Smith, you built this house and yes, you’re protecting the land now, but you don’t have to kill to do that. Just scare them again, that’ll be enough.”

“Clara-”

“Listen to me,” she urged him and raised her hands to cup his face in her palms. Suddenly, her mind was flooded with the memory of their kiss once again. So brief. So chaste. Clara wanted more than that. “You’re a good man and you’re more human than you might think. You don’t have to be a monster, John, you’re stronger than that.”

There was a long pause, a long moment of hesitation during which John remained completely still and silent and Clara was left to focus on how his cool skin made her fingers itch and tingle. Whatever he was, it was beyond what people called human or monster or ghost and she had to believe that it was enough to save them all. Enough to save her father and Robert and enough to save John from himself.

“I’m not sure I have that much faith in myself,” John admitted eventually.

At last, Clara found it in her to smile again. “It’s okay,” she reassured him. “I have enough faith for the both of us.”

And with that, Clara pushed herself up on tiptoes and gave in to the longing she had carried outside inside her for weeks. When their lips met once more, it wasn’t brief and it wasn’t chaste. All Clara wanted was to give herself to him, all the while reminding him that the most important parts of him were still human.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely, excited comments :)

“Hold on!” Clara shouted across the meadow where the two figures were already approaching the forest. Thankfully, they came to a halt straight away and gave Clara the opportunity to catch up.

Unfortunately for her, her father and Robert had risen early to go out into the forest and they had almost slipped through her fingers until she had seen them prepare for their hunt through the window. As quickly as she could, Clara had put on some clothes, a thick coat and swallowed a quick breakfast that she was still chewing on the way out.

“Wait for me! I’m coming with you!”

The two men looked more than surprised at her announcement when she had finally managed to catch up with them and they were throwing her mildly incredulous looks. It was the only way she could think of to still be able to do some damage control even though Clara hated the prospect of having animals shot right in front of her eyes. If she was lucky and if she played her part well, it wouldn’t even come to that.

“I’m sorry, but didn’t you spend the last few days actively opposing the idea?” Robert asked her, the amusement audible in her voice.

Clara merely shrugged and put on her brightest smile. “A girl can change her mind, can’t she?”

Her father placed his arm around her shoulder and from the expression on his face, Clara could tell that he seemed more than pleased with the development. After all, he had been talked into going hunting by Robert and Clara had almost managed to convince him to blow it off with her opposition, but sadly only almost. Now, she would just have to resort to a few different tricks.

It wasn’t just her father and Robert that she was trying to keep safe. During the night, Clara had thought long and hard about what this hunt really meant for all of them and suddenly, a terrible thought had occurred to her: was it safe for John? As the Hunter, he was an impressive being and he had lived for centuries, but was he truly immortal? Or could he be killed by a skilfully aimed bullet? Clara didn’t know, but she would hate to find out the hard way.

The party slowly set into motion again and Clara followed after her father and Robert, careful to make as much noise as humanly possible. After all, they couldn’t shoot what wasn’t there. Together, they entered the forest and Clara was amazed by how quiet it all seemed during the day. It was as if the animals had all automatically retreated and only ever really came out at night when the Hunter was there to protect him.

Last night, they had talked for a while longer and Clara had enquired about what it was like for him, how it all worked, but the answers hadn’t really been satisfactory to her. According to him, the curse made him come alive every single night and he disappeared again at first light and when Clara had asked what protected the forest during the day, he had only told her that he could sense the danger and it would awaken him. Maybe, if she kept the danger at bay, the Hunter wouldn’t even be called at all.

“Must you walk so noisily?” Robert asked in a hushed voice, nodding towards Clara’s feet that rustled in the fallen leaves.

Clara looked up at him and when she spoke, she made a point of doing it at a normal volume. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Quite on purpose, she dropped the bag she was carrying into the leaves and the sudden impact caused some nearby birds to fly off and take cover. She watched as Robert aimed his rifle at them, but it was far too late for him to get a good shot.

Pleased with herself, Clara continued her rustling stride after she had picked her bag back up.

“Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” her father whispered into her ear when Robert was too far away to hear them.

Clara turned around, grinning mischievously at her father. “So what if that’s really what I’m doing?” she asked. “Is that such a bad thing?”

Her father uttered a low chuckle and continued his stride, his rifle still slung across his shoulder exactly as it had ten minutes ago. He hadn’t touched it and somehow, Clara had the impression he wasn’t going to. She had managed to convince him after all.

Suddenly, he caught her attention when Clara felt his elbow nudge her softly. “Why don’t you walk with Robert and make sure he doesn’t shoot himself in the foot by accident?” her father suggested. “I’ll just have a little stroll.”

Clara stopped and hesitated for a moment. Should she leave her father on his own in the forest? Even though he no longer had the intention of killing anything, was it safe for him to be on his own? “No killing things?” she asked just to be sure. “Promise?”

Her father’s smile was reassurance enough. “Promise,” he replied sincerely.

 

When her father had left, Clara quickly caught up with Robert, but his originally good mood seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. For a moment, Clara decided to walk quietly just to pacify him enough to have a conversation with her.

“My dad went back home,” Clara announced casually and with a shrug of her shoulders. “Says he’s cold.”

Robert glanced at her and finally, he seemed to notice that she had stopped rustling. “Ah well,” he said. “He didn’t seem all that excited about the hunt after you gave your speeches. Maybe we’ll have a better chance of catching something when we’re fewer people out there. This forest is almost deserted.”

“I don’t actually plan on catching anything,” Clara replied. “You know very well that I don’t approve, but my father told me to stop you from shooting yourself in the foot.”

The young man scoffed. “I actually know how to handle a rifle, thank you.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

They walked in silence for a while and Clara wondered if she had come out here for nothing because Robert was right: there wasn’t a single animal in sight. Maybe, after so many years, they had learned their lesson and were doing their best to stay away from humans.

“Can I ask you a question?” Clara suddenly found herself saying, her own curiosity winning over once again. “What would you do if the Hunter was actually real?”

Robert chuckled softly and he turned his head to look at her as they walked. “You really believe in that story, don’t you?”

In response, Clara raised her hands in a surrendering gesture. “All I’m saying is that there are people out there who do and the myth has persisted for centuries. Even if most of it is made up, maybe there is some truth to it after all.”

Next to her, Robert came to a sudden halt and for a brief moment, Clara dared to hope that she had been able to move him with her words, but as he moved his finger to his lips in a gesture meant to silence her, she felt her heart sink. Clara had completely forgotten to move as loudly as she could and as her eyes trailed to the horizon, she spotted the doe grazing in the distance who was completely oblivious to their presence.

The young man moved slowly and stealthily, reaching for his rifle and aiming it at the entirely defenceless animal.

“Please, don’t do it,” Clara whispered quietly, but Robert seemed undeterred by her pleading. Instead, he kept on aiming his weapon at the doe, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.

Clara braced herself for the shot, but nothing at all happened for the longest time. Maybe, he had changed his mind. Or maybe, he was just trying to get the best possible shot. Clara wasn’t sure which one was true, but the longer he remained motionless, the more she had the feeling that something was wrong. Even though she couldn’t be sure how much time had passed, Robert should definitely have shot by now.

“Clara,” he whispered suddenly and there was a hint of terror in his voice that shook her marrow-deep. Robert was terrified. “I can’t move.”

As she looked, Clara realised that his hands were trembling around the trigger as if he was desperately trying to move but couldn’t. Something was preventing him from moving. Then, she could smell it. There was a shift that went through the entire forest and suddenly, everything had changed, causing the hairs to stand up at the back of her neck. The Hunter had arrived.  
Clara looked ahead and spotted him somewhere between Robert and the doe, standing between them to protect what was his, but it wasn’t John that she saw and it wasn’t the Hunter she had come to know. There was something different about him, something fierce and dangerous as he stood there, unmoving, staring at Robert and his aimed rifle.

Next to her, Robert started breathing heavily under the strain and from the look on his face, Clara could tell that the Hunter was hurting him without even as much as a touch. As she looked closer, Clara noticed in horror that a white streak had appeared in his hair. Of course, Martha had told her about this and she had read about it and even John had tried to explain it to her. He wasn’t deliberately hurting Robert. He just didn’t have a choice.

And neither did Clara.

Not knowing what else to do and fighting her own fear, she stepped forward and started to approach the Hunter who had still placed himself between Robert and his prey. The closer Clara came to him, the more she realised that this wasn’t the man she had talked to on so many nights, but she just had to try.

“John,” she said carefully as soon as he was within her reach, “John, listen to me. You don’t have to hurt him.”

When the Hunter turned his head and looked at her, Clara felt a weight drop off her shoulders. He was listening, he was still in there and that meant she still had a chance. Cautiously, she reached out and touched his arm, but the Hunter didn’t move.

“You’re stronger than him, stronger than the Hunter,” Clara whispered kindly. “You can fight it. There is no need to hurt anyone. Robert won’t kill the doe, I promise you.”

Beneath her palm, Clara felt the energy run through him at an ever-increasing speed. It was so strong that she had almost pulled away at first impact, but she willed herself to keep on touching him. If she severed the connection, Robert was lost. But the energy wasn’t John’s and it wasn’t the one she had felt before in the Hunter’s presence. It was the curse that was making him do it, making him kill by just being in the culprit’s presence. Somehow, there had to be a way to shut it off.

“Look at me,” she told him and for the first time, the Hunter stared straight into her eyes with an intensity that frightened her a little, but she was determined not to be scared. It was only John and Clara knew that he wasn’t going to hurt her. There was absolutely nothing for her to worry about, so she decided to smile at him. “I don’t want you to kill him. Please, just spare him. For me.”

The Hunter opened his mouth, but it took a long while before the word actually crossed his lips. “How?”

Clara moved her hand from his arm to his cheek, touching it gently despite the energy that buzzed under his ghostly skin and she made sure to keep the smile on her face to reassure him. If she didn’t believe him capable, then they were all lost, so she decided to put all of her faith in him.

“There’s no danger,” she told him. “You can let go.”

And with that, she pushed herself up on tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his mouth. In the distance, she heard Robert’s body drop to the ground and she spun to look where he was lying motionlessly among the leaves. The Hunter stepped back, away from her touch.

“You should call for help,” he told her, but when she turned to look at him again, he had gone, vanished into thin air.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert is injured, the Hunter disappeared... anyone interested to learn what happens now? Thank you guys for the sweet comments :)

Clara stood in the corner of the room, watching the procedure with caution and with worry, waiting for the doctor to finish his examination of the patient. Right after the Hunter’s disappearance, Clara had rushed towards Robert, only to find him unconscious. She had tried to talk to him, she had tried to shake him, but nothing had managed to wake him up, but she had comforted herself with the fact that he was still breathing even though his hair had turned completely white and a few additional wrinkles had appeared on his face. With the help of her father and the staff, they had brought Robert back to the house and called for the physician who still hadn’t come to any conclusion as to what was wrong with him.

Finally, the doctor uttered a sigh and rose to his feet, facing both Clara and her father. He seemed entirely at a loss. “I have to admit that I haven’t seen anything like this in a very long time,” he confessed gravely.

“You’ve seen this before then?” Clara wanted to know.

The doctor nodded. “Once when I was a young man, but the patient back then was already dead. They had found him in the woods with his hair turned white. My mentor had then told me it was something that had happened before to various people, always when they had entered the forest.”

Clara watched her father knit his eyebrows at the physician. “What’s causing it?” he wanted to know, but it was unlikely that the answer would satisfy him. Clara knew, but she wasn’t sure that the doctor did and even if, would he tell her father the truth?

“I can’t say,” he admitted. “His body experienced a state of severe shock or a seizure, but he was very lucky. His heartbeat and breathing have stabilised and since he’s a young and healthy man, I do think he will recover. It might just take a while for him to wake up.”

Clara felt the relief wash over her like a wave, but at the same time, she wasn’t entirely sure what to think about it. Yes, she had saved Robert’s life and that was what she had wanted, but she was also afraid of what he might remember as soon as he was conscious again. Nevertheless, she was glad that he was still alive.

“Thank you,” her father said as he shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you so much for your help.”

When the two men left the room, Clara remained for a moment longer, her eyes wandering over Robert’s face that had aged so visibly. Even though he was her own age, he now looked caught between the youthful energy that had once inhabited him and the frailty of old age, caught between life and death.

However, it made her realised something very important. Clara had stopped the Hunter from killing Robert and suddenly, she felt a stab of pride at that, instinctively knowing that no one before her had been capable of doing that. And if she could save Robert from the Hunter, she could also save John from him. It might take a while to figure out just how to do it, but Clara felt certain that there had to be a way to break the curse and she would find out exactly what it took to help him.

* * *

The Hunter was pacing the edge of the forest nervously and it was almost as if he could hear the clock ticking away until dawn and still, Clara hadn’t come to see him. And why would she? Today, he had almost killed her friend and it seemed a miracle that the young man had survived. The Hunter couldn’t remember anyone escaping the curse’s wrath before, but that didn’t matter, did it? Clara had finally seen who he was, _what_ he was and that would have driven her away forever. There was no way she would want to be with him now, no way she would help him break his curse. Every chance he had had, the Hunter had lost today.

However, sometime around midnight, the Hunter spotted her, dashing across the meadow in her nightgown and coat and when she arrived at their usual meeting spot, she was panting, utterly out of breath.

“I’m so sorry,” the Hunter burst out immediately, eager to get the words out before Clara had a chance to speak. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I swear. I didn’t have a choice when he aimed that gun. I tried, Clara! I tried to fight it, but-”

To his surprise, Clara smiled at him under the moonlight and it was as if a shadow lifted from his heart. “You did more than try,” she replied breathlessly. Somehow, he thought her voice sounded happy. “You did it! Robert is alive!”

“He is?” he enquired. The Hunter hadn’t been entirely sure. Yes, the man had still been breathing when he had released him, but so far, no one had been able to survive the Hunter’s attack.

Clara nodded, smiling at him. “I just hope he won’t remember any of that,” Clara replied, “but he is alive, yes. The doctor said he might take a while to wake up, but he sounded quite confident.”

In response, the Hunter breathed a sigh of relief. It was good news and not just for Clara, but for him as well. He had never liked killing and one of the worst parts about his curse was that it was forcing him to. Then, Clara reached out and took his hand, reminding the Hunter that he had her to thank for that.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said earnestly. “I knew you could do it.”

Finally, the Hunter managed to crack a smile as well. “All thanks to you.”

Still smiling, Clara shook her head. “No, that was you. I told you there was still more humanity left in you than you give yourself credit for.”

He inhaled deeply, letting Clara’s voice will his head while he focused on the touch and he felt a sudden warmth that he usually missed when he was the Hunter. Maybe, she was right, but what did it matter? As long as he was cursed, he would always have to fight for his remaining humanity, he would always have to struggle.

“John.” Clara’s careful voice tore him out of his thoughts and he recognised a seriousness in it that hadn’t been there before. When he looked at her, the Hunter found that she was looking at him intently. “We’ll find a way to break the curse.”

“Clara-” he attempted to say, but she cut him off.

“I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t want to hear it,” she reminded him strictly. “I know that there has to be a way, I can feel it. And I’m going to find it.”

Once again, the Hunter opened his mouth, ready to explain to her just what kind of sacrifice breaking his curse would demand of her, but eventually, he thought better of it. He had told Ellie and she had left him. If he told Clara now, he would not only end up alone, but he would also crush and shatter her hope on the spot. The Hunter just couldn’t do it to her and he couldn’t ask her to become his wife when that was something she didn’t want to do. He would rather remain the Hunter forever than force Clara into making this decision just to save him.

“I’ll find a way somehow, I’ll do some research,” she promised him eagerly, her voice almost brimming over with excitement. The Hunter could see just how determined she was and that was why she could never find out the truth about his curse. “Trust me, we’ll free you of that damned curse.”

With a heavy heart, the Hunter forced himself to smile at her, knowing that he would never be free, knowing that Clara had the means to free him, but he would never ask her to do it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday and you know what that means, right? New chapter! Thank you so much for your comments :)

Once again, the whole house had stayed up late, watching over Robert and his condition with a critical eye. Even though the doctor had reassured them that there was no reason for him not to wake up again, everyone seemed worried - and so was Clara, but she was the only one who really knew what had happened to him and she had faith that in time, he would pull through. Yet the concerned household had prevented her from going outside to see John and it was already past midnight when she finally put on her coat to out and just as she was preparing to leave, an antlered head peered through her wall.

Clara uttered a sigh of surrender, wondering if she could ever convince him not to do that and yet, her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him like it always did. With every kiss they shared, that only seemed to grow worse and slowly, Clara started to question her resolve to never marry again. Of course, it was way too early to even think about such things at this stage, but Clara could feel heart soften more and more when it came to looking into the future. Somehow, being with John felt absolutely right. Somehow, being with John felt like she was slowly healing at last.

“Hey,” he said softly, granting her a smile as he stepped through the wall. It seemed ridiculous to Clara that he could do that and yet touch her. “How are you?”

Clara nodded, smiling back at him. “Doing well,” she replied. “I was just coming to see you.”

“And your friend?” John enquired, raising his impressive eyebrows at her.

Blowing the air out of her lungs, Clara let her shoulders sink. Yes, the doctor had said he would wake up, but that didn’t mean Clara was free of all worry, especially in John’s presence. She imagined him feeling incredibly guilty about the incident. “He hasn’t woken up yet,” she explained calmly. “But he will. I’m sure of it.”

“Can I see him?”

Clara’s first instinct was to say no for several reasons. Mainly, she wasn’t entirely sure if that was what Robert would want after everything that had happened and secondly, Clara didn’t want the evening to be about him, she wanted it to be about herself and John. She wanted to be alone with him, to talk to him, but as she watched that look on his face, she faltered in her determination.

 

A few minutes later, Clara was quietly leading him along the corridors even though she was the only one who had to make sure she was quiet enough not to wake anyone. John moved soundlessly and somehow, it made Clara think that his feet weren’t really touching the floor at all. It reminded her once more that he wasn’t human and right now, it came as a surprise to Clara that she needed constant reminders at all. It didn’t really seem to matter when she was with him.

They entered the room Clara had only just left half an hour ago and Robert still hadn’t moved. He was lying in his bed just as he had all day and the day before that and it made Clara wonder whether he would move again at all. John didn’t seem to share her thoughtfulness as he stepped closer to the bed and observed the sleeping Robert from up close.

“The doctor says he’s very confident he will make a full recovery,” Clara tried to reassure him, but she could tell from the look on his face that the guilt was still weighing heavily on his heart.  
After that, she watched wordlessly as John stepped forward and placed his hands on Robert’s temples just like he had done with her only a few nights ago. Back then, he had lifted the fog that had clouded her thoughts, making everything a little clearer. Was that what he was doing to Robert? Was he healing him? Trying to convince him to wake up?

“He’s in shock,” John explained after a moment. “His mind is racing with everything that he’s seen, unable to cope with the reality. He doesn’t understand.”

“Can you help him?” Clara enquired curiously.

John hesitated for a moment and all Clara could hear was his breathing. Then, he finally released Robert. “I’m trying,” he said softly and then turned to look at her once again. “Trying to make him forget. I can’t promise it’ll work, but he will wake up sooner or later.”

Even though the doctor has said it before him, hearing those words from John instantly filled her with relief and maybe, Robert wouldn't even remember what exactly had happened in the forest. One way or another, everything was going to be alright.

 

Back in her own room, Clara still felt a sense of calm and maybe even happiness as she settled on her bed, John sinking down on the mattress next to her. Suddenly, she didn’t even want to go outside with him even though the fresh air would probably do her good. There was something homely and cosy about being here with him, so close that their bodies were almost touching and it occurred to her that she would quite like touching him, but there were a few more things on her mind that she needed to say.

“Thank you,” Clara said after a moment of silence.

John looked up, visibly confused as to why she was thanking him and it made her chuckle.

“For helping Robert even though he did… what he did,” she explained and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “You are human, John. You’re cursed, but you’re human and I will help you.”

The sigh that escaped John’s lips was heavy and sad. “Clara, I’m not sure there’s a way for me to be released from this curse.”

“There has to be,” she replied determinedly. “And I will find it no matter what it takes. I mean, um, unless you don’t want that.”

It had never occurred to her before that maybe, John was enjoying this ghostly existence. After all, he was practically immortal in that way, but it was also a lonely way of living or not living and from the way he had struck up a friendship with her and her mother before her, Clara could tell that he would very likely give up immortality for companionship. However, would she stay with him once he was fully human again? Right now, John wasn’t a danger to her or her resolve to never marry again. He was a ghost, an immortal and Clara was safe in his presence not just from anything that might harm her, but also safe from the danger of loss. As the Hunter, John would never die. He would never leave her like Danny had and maybe it was the reassurance of that which was drawing Clara in.

To silence her own nagging thoughts, Clara sat up and leaned forward until their lips touched. As soon as they united in a kiss, Clara felt her fears and doubts fade into oblivion. If a simple kiss was able to do that to her, what would happen if they went further than that? _Could_ he even go further than that? Clara had never considered it until now, but suddenly, the possibility and her own curiosity seemed overwhelming as John parted his lips to let her in.

Clara once again felt that rush of excitement course through her body, that soft, electrical tingling his touch left on her skin and in a moment of bravery, she hooked her arms around his neck and let herself fall back, pulling John down on top of her.

He broke the kiss and looked at her in confusion, but Clara granted him a sincere, loving smile. She didn’t want to say it out loud out of fear it might scare him away, out of fear it might ruin the mood, so instead, she focused entirely on what she wanted. John was still touching her and maybe the connection they had shared the other night was still open and he could read her mind, so Clara focused on that.

 _I want to be with you_ , she thought. _I want to be one with you._

Still, John hesitated for a moment longer until at last, he smiled back at her. When he bent down to kiss her once more, Clara thought that it felt different, that it felt even better than before, knowing that they both wanted the exact same thing. Clara closed her eyes and let herself fall, for a moment forgetting everything that wasn’t John and revelling in the feeling of his naked skin on her own, the soft, cool tingling sensation, that moment of ecstasy as he finally entered her and at last, the feeling of sheer bliss that blasted away the last bit of doubt she had still had. Clara finally realised that she was falling in love.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely feedback :) Glad you're all still here and enjoying the ride!

Slowly, Clara opened her eyes and the sunlight that managed to make its way past the curtains blinded her, but still, it couldn’t ruin the feeling of peace and calm that she was feeling this morning. She wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened or how, but for the first time in years, Clara felt truly happy as if she had finally found the right path in life to walk on after so many failed attempts. It surprised her a little because she hadn’t expected to find it here when she hadn’t even wanted to move to the countryside in the first place, but John had changed that all for her. He was the reason for it all.

As soon as she thought about him, Clara sat up in bed, but naturally, the side next to hers was empty and suddenly, she felt the same emptiness in her heart that occupied the space John had held last night. He always vanished at first light, she had known that, but that didn’t mean her heart couldn’t hope for something better. Somehow, there had to be a way for her to break his curse and once she did, they could be together.

After a while, Clara was slowly becoming aware of the ruckus that was going on outside her room. It wasn’t the ordinary sounds of the house waking up because there were heavy footsteps and agitated voices and to see what was going on, Clara threw her robe over the nightgown and headed outside. Once she had left her room, Jenny rushed along the corridor and Clara took her chance.

“What’s going on?” she demanded to know. “What’s all the noise about?”

Jenny had almost reached the end of the hall, but she still turned around in her stride to look at Clara. “It’s Robert! He’s woken up!”

Clara’s heart missed a beat. It wasn’t the news she had expected the hear and all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure what to think of it. Of course, she was glad to hear that he had pulled through, but at the same time, Clara was afraid of what he might remember.

However, before succumbing to her worries, Clara decided to take a deep breath and talk to the man himself. Maybe, whatever John had done last night had worked and he wouldn’t remember anything at all. When she stepped into Robert’s room, she found him sitting upright, deep in conversation with her father.

“Robert,” Clara said to get his attention and granted him the best smile she could muster. “You’re up. That’s good news.”

At first, the young man merely looked at her as if he couldn’t quite remember who she was and if she was honest, Clara also had a hard time reconciling the image of the young, vital man with what was right in front of her eyes. Robert had aged visibly, his hair now almost completely white and the lines on his face made him look fifty rather than thirty. Whatever the Hunter’s power had done to him, it had drained him of his life force and if it had gone on much longer, Robert would have died. Clara didn’t doubt that for a second.

“You’re okay,” Robert blurted out eventually. “You were there when it happened. Your father said you were alright, but I couldn’t believe it. I had to see it with my own eyes.”

So he hadn’t forgotten it all. Clara had been afraid of that.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him quickly. “And so are you. I mean, you’re alive.”

His gaze darkened visibly and if he had had the strength to rise from his bed, Clara was sure that he would have. There was an anger in him that she hadn’t seen before.

“Do I look _fine_ to you?!” Robert demanded, growling in her direction. “That monster nearly killed me! You were there! You saw it!”

Clara swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. Of course, Robert was absolutely right even though he was quite mistaken when it came to the Hunter. He wasn’t a monster, but he would have killed Robert if Clara hadn’t stepped in. How on earth was she going to explain that him?

Her father reached for Robert’s hand and patted it gently. “I don’t know what happened to you in that forest, but if Clara didn’t see it, maybe you imagined it all. I mean, you had a pretty big shock and the mind makes up all sorts of things to cope with what we don’t understand.”

When Robert stared at Clara, his eyes fixed on her face, she knew that she had exactly two options. She could deny it all and tell them she hadn’t seen a thing, that the Hunter was a product of his imagination or she could tell them the truth, tell them that it was their own fault for not listening to her and going into the forest with the intention to kill. Right now, Clara found it impossible to decide.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clara replied, trying her best to sound convincing. “I didn’t see a monster. I just saw you lying on the ground and called for help. Maybe it a boar that attacked you.”

“Nonsense!” Robert shouted angrily. “You were there when the Hunter attacked me! You must have seen him!”

Clara shook her head, but she didn’t know how long she could keep lying to them. Right now, Robert’s memory seemed to be fuzzy, but if he remembered more, she wasn’t sure she could lie as convincingly after everything that had happened between her and John.

“It was exactly like in the fairytale!” Robert insisted. “It was exactly like you said! I wanted to shoot that deer and the Hunter came to kill me!”

Softly, Clara blew out the air between her teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sure you’ll need some more rest and you’ll see things more clearly,” she replied and abruptly turned around on her heels, heading out of the room before she could say or do something to betray the lie.

 

Back on the corridor, Coco greeted her excitedly and Clara was glad for the distraction as she took the dog back to the kitchen to feed her breakfast. Knowing that Jenny had rushed off in the opposite direction, she had hoped to find the room empty and to have a moment to herself to think, but Martha was standing at the stove next to a whistling kettle.

“Oh, good,” she exclaimed happily, “you’re just in time for tea. I’m sure you’ve already heard the good news?”

Clara inhaled deeply, ready to answer and lie to Martha as well, but she hesitated a moment too long to reply and the maid’s eyebrows arched up instantly.

“I’m relieved he’s awake,” Clara lied. Of course, she was relieved, but she would have preferred him not to remember anything.

Martha was too smart for Clara and she could spot her inner conflict a mile away and in response to that, her mood mellowed. “He claims to have seen the Hunter,” Martha explained. “He wants to go back out and kill him.”

This morning, Clara had felt so happy and confident and hopeful and now, her heart was heavy with doubt and fear once more. Martha seemed like a reasonable person and Clara just needed to get some things off her chest. She sighed as she sank down in her chair. “The Hunter can’t be killed,” Clara said, her voice void of all emotion. “He can’t even be touched by most people.”

Somehow, Martha didn’t even seem surprised by her statement as she sat down next to her at the table. In the background, the kettle whistled on.

“You’ve met him, haven’t you?” Martha asked. There was no judgement in her tone, not even curiosity. It was if she was asking just so Clara could answer and get the truth out at last.

“He’s my friend,” she explained quietly. “And I think I love him.”

Slowly, the maid nodded and Clara could hear her take a deep breath. “I’ve lived here all my life and I know that the Hunter isn’t evil. He just protects what is his. You know he’s the one who built this house, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, people from the village aren’t scared of him. I mean, they are a little bit, but I think it’s more respect than actual fear. They would never do something as stupid as Robert did, they would never try to hunt in the forest. That was entirely his fault.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this when I first asked about the Hunter?” Clara wanted to know. She remembered doing her searching and Martha helping her, but she seemed to know a lot more than she had admitted in the beginning.

In response, the maid smiled at her. “Would you have believed me?”

“No,” Clara said. “I think I needed to see it with my own eyes.”

To her surprise, Martha reached out to take Clara’s hands. “You don’t have to be afraid, Clara. The Hunter can protect himself and if Robert tries to do something stupid again, he is going to pay for it and he will have no one else to blame for it than himself.”

Even though Clara knew that Martha was right, she still couldn’t help but think that she somehow had to try to protect both of them. The Hunter from those who didn’t understand and Robert from his own stupidity. There just had to be a way.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big group hug for the lovely comments* :) And yes, the Beauty and the Beast vibe was the direction I wanted to take with this story.

The Hunter watched her approach the forest across the meadow and even though he wasn’t fully alive, the way his heartbeat was accelerating when he saw Clara certainly managed to trick him into thinking that he was. So many centuries of finding and losing hope and finally, salvation seemed within his grasp. But it wasn’t really, was it?

He wasn’t entirely sure what to think anymore and maybe, the Hunter should just try to switch off his head and follow his heart and there was no doubt that it was leading him to Clara. He was bound to her by the curse just like he was bound to the forest. There was no way he could have avoided falling in love with her. But was she going to free him? The Hunter couldn’t say. Even after they had slept together, he still wasn’t sure whether it would be enough.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and thought back to the previous night, to the very first time in centuries he had been able to touch a woman like that and he hadn’t even realised how much he had missed it. That kind of intimacy was reserved for humans and he was a ghost. Until Clara had come along and treated him just like he was one of her own. Even if never agreed to marry him, even if she never broke his curse, the Hunter would forever be grateful to her for that one moment she hadn’t cared about what he was.

By the time Clara had reached him, he wore a bright smile on his face, but his mood was immediately dampened when he realised that she wasn’t smiling back. For a moment, he wondered whether he had made a mistake last night, whether he had done something or said something to upset her, but when Clara opened her mouth, the Hunter soon found out what was going through her mind.

“Robert woke up,” she announced immediately, still panting a little from having walked all the way from the house.

“That’s, um,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at her, “that’s good news, isn’t it?”

Clara shook her head. “He remembers what happened,” she explained hurriedly. “Not all of it, at least, I don’t think he does, but he might.”

The Hunter had tried. He had tried to erase the man’s memory of the incident, but he needed a strong mental connection to someone to influence or even read their thoughts, a stronger link than he could have established in such a brief moment. However, the Hunter didn’t really see why it mattered so much. Every now and then, people had seen him and so far, they had co-existed peacefully apart from those occasions during which a few daredevils had thought the rules didn’t apply to them.

He shrugged. “So what,” he said, scoffing softly. “He might tell a few people, but those who will believe him already know.”

“He is determined to kill you!” Clara said, an urgency in her voice which the Hunter finally understood.

“Ah,” he uttered. If Robert came after him again, he wouldn’t have a choice. If that man saw him again, if that man tried to harm him or what he was protecting, he would die and this time, the Hunter wasn’t sure even Clara could stop it. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to spare him a second time. We already came close the last time he stepped into the forest. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop it when it starts. I can’t control that part of the Hunter.”

The Hunter heard Clara exhale sharply and he watched her nod understandingly. “Luckily for you, you can’t be killed. Otherwise, I would have two people to worry about.”

He hated to break to her and as soon as the words escaped his mouth, the Hunter wanted to curse himself for them. “I can be killed just like anyone else,” he said. 

The regret followed instantly as Clara’s head shot up and she stared at him out of her big, dark eyes. Despite the fear in them, her eyes were incredibly beautiful like that.

“On a new moon night, I become human,” he explained quickly. “I can be killed then.”

“But not on any other night?” Clara enquired, a seriousness in her tone that surprised him. She was truly worried about his well-being and it touched a part of him he had already forgotten existed.

The Hunter shook his head. “Most people can’t even touch me. Except you,” he explained, smiling in her direction. “You’re not planning on killing me, are you?”

Finally, Clara smiled back at him and she chuckled softly. “Don’t be daft,” she said and gave him a nudge. Even after he had already grown accustomed to her touch, it still felt strange in the best of ways. It still reminded him that he wasn’t fully dead and the Hunter never wanted this feeling to end.

“Try to keep Robert out of the forest, will you?” the Hunter asked carefully. “I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I have a choice if he tries to attack once again.”

What Clara did next still took him by surprise and it made his heart beat faster as she hooked her arms around his neck without a warning and kissed him on the lips. In all those centuries, he had forgotten what it was like to kiss something, to feel the warmth of a woman’s body, to taste her sweet lips. If she decided not to help him, the Hunter wasn’t sure whether he would survive. How could he possibly go back from her touch to the empty, dull existence he had led up until he had met her?

“There’s another way,” she promised him, smiling as their lips parted. “I’m sure there is.”

Curiously, the Hunter cocked his eyebrow at her. He knew that Clara was smart, but she wasn’t entirely sure he could outwit the wickedness of his curse.

“Oh?” he asked.

Clara nodded determinedly. “We’ll figure out how to break your curse,” she said. When her lips started to tremble, the Hunter wasn’t sure what to expect. Something was coming, something big, he could tell from the way Clara was looking at him, from the way she was shaking in his arms. She was nervous. “And then we’ll go away.”

Even her voice was trembling as she spoke those words and the Hunter realised immediately why that was. For a moment, he felt as if his heart might explode and he wanted to tell her, he wanted to let her know just how they could free him and be together, but something held him back. Admitting that she wanted to be with him was a big enough step for her at this point.

“We can leave this place and go far away from here,” Clara told him. “They will never find us.”

Even though it was exactly what the Hunter had wanted to hear, somehow, a sliver of doubt crept back inside his head and it was stronger than the initial happiness.

“Is that what you want?” he asked cautiously. “Are you sure we’ll break the curse?”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Clara nodded. “I promised you, didn’t I?”

The Hunter uttered a long and heavy sigh as he raised his hands and cupped Clara’s cheeks in his palms. Her skin was so warm and soft under his touch and right now, he thought that he wanted to hold her like this forever. “Oh Clara,” he said softly, a sad smile on his lips, “don’t make promises you can’t keep.”


	29. Chapter 29

Clara Oswald needed to break a curse, but seeing as she hadn’t actually believed in magic and the likes up until a short while ago, she had no idea how to go about that. A trip to the library had yielded some results, but even the books she had brought home to study didn’t tell her about the kind of magic that had been used to curse the Hunter or how to break it. In her despair, Clara had even confided in the maid and she had hoped that, since Martha seemed to know a lot more than she admitted, her friend would know how to free John or at least where to look. Sadly, Clara never got more than Martha’s promise that she would keep her eyes open for anything that might be useful.

Days had passed since Clara had started to dig deeper into matters of magic and curses and still, she was as clueless as before. There had to be a way to help John and with the tension in this home slowly rising, Clara knew that she had to find it quickly. Robert had started to walk again, gathering his strengths and telling everyone about what he had seen in the forest and the more he talked about it, the more it frightened Clara. He remembered little of what had really happened, but it was enough to stoke his anger and hatred for the Hunter that he wanted to kill at any cost. It was the topic of every family breakfast and dinner and she could hear her father try to talk sense into Robert in between those, but her father’s reasoning was failing. Right now, Clara’s only hope was that Robert would never find out how the Hunter could be killed.

Clara hadn’t actually spent a lot of time thinking about what would happen after the curse was broken, but the way she saw it, she and John only had one option and that was to start over again somewhere far away from here where no one knew who he was or what he looked like. Was she ready to take that step even though she had once vowed to never be with someone after Danny? In her head, Clara had started many conversations with her dead husband and all of them had brought her to the same conclusion. If she loved him, if he made her happy, if it was a way to keep him safe, Danny would want her to do it. Yet the matter of what came after was a question for when the curse was actually broken and so far, Clara still hadn’t found a way to do it. Maybe she never would and it made her heart ache to think about the possibility of planning a future with John that would never take place.

After returning from work, Clara headed towards the library once more in an attempt to avoid the conversation between Robert and her father downstairs and she was relieved to find Coco following her. At least, she wouldn’t be alone while she pursued another likely fruitless attempt at figuring out how to break the Hunter’s curse.

“Clara!” a voice called from the other end of the corridor, “Clara! Wait!”

As she turned around, Clara spotted Martha as she came running towards her and somehow, she thought that the maid looked excited. Clara tried her best not to get her hopes up that she had actually found something.

“Did something happen?” Clara asked, the pessimist in her coming to light. It seemed as if she was constantly receiving bad news ever since Robert had decided to go on that damned hunt.

Martha came to halt next to her and together, they resumed their stride towards the library. The maid was still panting when she started to speak. “I was dusting the library shelves earlier and found something that might be interesting.”

Clara’s eyebrows shot up. She had personally searched every single shelf in the house’s library and she hadn’t found any books on magic or local folklore that were even the least bit helpful to her endeavour.

Yet Martha smiled at her as she led Clara towards a shelf near the window. “You told me your mother knew the Hunter as well,” she began and Clara replied with a nod which only broadened the maid’s smile. “Well, I found her diary.”

Clara was still trying to make sense of Martha’s words as the maid pulled up a ladder and climbed up to reach a shelf just a little too high for Clara to ever notice. She had read the titles on the spines, but Martha reached behind the row of books and pulled out an old, tattered journal that she handed to Clara as soon as she had climbed back down. It felt heavy in her hands and Clara watched the dust being blown off the cover as she exhaled sharply. She was holding her mother’s diary, her mother’s thoughts and her story and right now, it seemed to Clara as if Martha had handed her a treasure. For years, Clara had longed to connect with her mother, but she had exhausted all the photographs and all the stories other people told her until there had been nothing left. Until the Hunter had shown up and brought to light a side of her mother that she had never known. Now, Clara was going to find out even more.

“It was hidden behind the other books,” Martha explained. “I think your mother hid it from anyone who wasn’t willing to dig deep.”

“Have you read it?” Clara wanted to know.

The maid shook her head. “I just opened the first page and realised what it was. I think I’ll leave you to it, huh?”

Finally, Clara managed to smile. Maybe, this would be the key to the Hunter’s salvation and even if it wasn’t, to Clara, it would still be a treasure in its own right.

 

Once Martha had left the library, Clara retreated to her favourite reading chair and opened the first page where she recognised her mother’s handwriting immediately and even if she hadn’t, the cursive writing that spelt out Ellie Ravenwood would have been an indicator. Curiously, she began to read.

The diary told of her mother’s teenage years during which she had already known the Hunter and met him frequently even though she often referred to the day she had first met this magical creature that she seemed to love almost as much as Clara loved him. Some entries revolved around her school days and her best friends, some mentioned squabbles with her parents and halfway through the book, Clara found the first mention of a handsome, young man named David Oswald. A smile spread across her face as she read about their very first encounter during which the two of them had fallen in love instantly. Of course, Clara had known that story ever since she was a child, the story of how her father had saved her mother from being run over by a carriage because a falling leaf had blocked her view. Still, reading it in her mother’s words gave it an intimacy that made Clara feel as if she was right there with her mother, listening to her love story for the very first time.

What came next were a few awkward meetings and a shy, first kiss, soon followed by proclamations of infatuation and eventually, a proposal. Then came an entry Clara hadn’t expected and she leaned forward just a little to not miss a single word.

_May 14, 1887_

_Today, I went to see who I thought was my best friend to give him the good news about my engagement and to show him the beautiful ring my Dave has given me. I have been reluctant to tell the Hunter about him because I know how protective he is of me. I’ve always put it down to the moment we met when he saved my life, but now I know better and I don’t know what to think of it. I don’t even know if I can ever look at him in the same way again._

_When went to see the Hunter and told him about Dave and about how we were going to get married in autumn, I had expected him to be happy for me. After all, he is my friend and he should want me to be happy. Instead, the Hunter became mad in a way I have never seen before and he began to shout at me for rushing into a marriage to a man I don’t even know. The truth is, he might be right about that. I have only known Dave for a couple of months, but I love him and if I don’t take this step now, I feel like I never will out of fear of getting my heart broken. Maybe I’m not quite ready for marriage, but I love Dave enough to give it my best. I love him enough to try to make it work. The Hunter didn’t see it that way._

_He shocked me when he sank down on his knees in front of me and asked me a question I had never expected to hear from him. He asked me to marry him._

_Marry the Hunter! The thought had never even crossed my mind! And I told him so. I told him that he was my best friend, but I had never seen him in that way, I told him that I was in love with Dave and would be his bride in a few months and I also wanted to know how he could ask me that when I just told him about how happy I was to be engaged to Dave._

_What happened next shocked me even more than the moment the Hunter had gone down on his knees in front of me because he started to cry and he told me everything that he had kept from me so far. Maybe, if I had known all of that before I had fallen in love with Dave, I would have helped him, but he told me too late when I had already given my heart to someone else._

_I had never known that the curse could be broken and if he had asked me a few months ago, I might have said yes. The evil witch who cursed him had come up with the most sinister plan for his release. Because the Hunter hadn’t wanted to marry her, she had bound his curse to one condition: only if he found a woman willing to marry him, he could be free. But not just any woman would do. It had to be one of her ancestors and since I am the last woman in that line, I am his last chance._

_The Hunter begged me to help him, he begged me to free him from his curse, but the words that never crossed his lips were the ones I was most desperate to hear, the ones Dave always says to me when we’re alone. The Hunter never told me that he loves me. So I ran away._

_I feel terrible about leaving him like that, but I want more from life than to be an instrument for his release. I want to be loved and I found that love with Dave. Maybe, I will go back tomorrow and apologise to the Hunter, maybe I’ll go back and explain to him why I can’t marry him, but I’m not sure he will understand. Maybe it’s best for me to never see him again._

 

Clara looked up from the page and felt her heart sink when the awful realisation finally hit her and right now, she wasn’t entirely sure what to think because the thoughts were running haywire in her head. The Hunter had lied to her, he had let her search for a way to break his curse even though he had known all along how to do it and he had known that it would demand the sacrifice he knew Clara wasn’t ready to make.

That was the reason for his outburst after she had told him about Danny, that was the reason he had sent her away. It all made sense to her now, but what was even worse was that her mother had been wrong about one thing in particular.

Ellie hadn’t been the Hunter’s last chance. It was Clara. And since she would never have a daughter, the witch’s ancestral line ended with her. If Clara refused, there would be no one to save John from his dreadful curse. Ever. He was doomed for all eternity.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments :) And you were right, of course, I meant to say 1887 and not 1987. Glad you're all still paying attention here :D

Clara had spent the rest of the day thinking about what she had uncovered and when the sun set and the house was slowly beginning to go quiet while everyone went to sleep, she normally would have put on her coat and gone outside, but instead, Clara sat on her bed and stared at her bedroom wall.

John, the Hunter, whoever was in control of the deception, had lied to her and she didn’t know what to think about it. Had he kept the secret from her because he didn’t want to be released? Had he hoped that she would figure it out herself? Had he waited for the worst moment to spring the truth on her just like he had with her mother? Clara didn’t understand it, but she knew that she wouldn’t have to wait very much longer for her answer when the Hunter’s antlers appeared in her room, promptly followed by the rest of his body.

Was she his friend? His lover? Or was she just the tool, the key to his release? Clara had to find.

“Hey,” John greeted her with his usual shy smile. “You didn’t meet me in the forest tonight. Is everything alright? Did something happen with Robert?”

He had had so many chances to tell her. Every time they had spoken about breaking his curse, John could have told her what it took. But he hadn’t. Was that all part of his game?

When she didn’t reply, the smile began to fade from John’s face that took on a more worried expression. “Clara?”

In response, Clara held up the small journal that she had read a couple of time during the day just to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.

Even though he clearly didn’t know what it was, John raised his eyebrows at her and the worry lines on his face deepened just a little. “What is that?” he wanted to know.

“It’s my mother’s journal,” Clara told him, speaking clearly and slowly so her words had time to sink in. And they did - judging from the look on his face. “You’ve known how to break the curse all along.”

John exhaled sharply and Clara watched his shoulders sink in defeat, expecting an apology or an explanation, but neither of it came.

“Yes,” he admitted eventually. “Yes, I’ve known it forever.”

“And were you planning on telling me?”

She waited for his reply, but it never came until she started to raise her eyebrows in his direction.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, the defeat and despair now audible in his voice. “Possibly. Later. Or not.”

Clara opened her mouth, ready to shout at him for keeping this a secret from her, but to her surprise, John cut her off.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” he argued. “You said you never want to get married again and I respect that. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want and I don’t want you to feel obligated to marry me just-”

“Just what?!” Clara raised her voice at him. At the same time, she stood up even though it seemed pointless given their height difference. No matter what she did, John towered over her at all times. She would need a ladder to impress him with her size. “Just because I’m your very last chance?! In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have any children and if I understand my mother’s journal correctly, it has to be a descendant from the witch who cursed you. I’m the last one! If I don’t marry you, you will never be free!”

Slowly, John nodded. “You understood correctly,” he said simply as if the fact didn’t even bother him. “But you don’t want to get married, so it doesn’t matter.”

Clara inhaled deeply, trying to gather her thoughts. What had her mother written in her journal? She had said so many things about what she needed to hear, about how afraid she was and it all mingled in her head. It was too much for her to understand all at once.

“John, what am I to you?” Clara demanded to know. Her voice was stern, as was the expression on her face, but she needed to know. John owed her an answer.

But instead of replying, he merely looked at her. “I don’t understand.”

“Am I a tool? A friend? Do you even feel anything for me?” Clara asked.

The silence that followed was almost deafening and from the way John stared at her, Clara had no idea what to expect from him next. Despite the antlers on his head, despite his ghostly appearance, despite the fact that his existence didn’t seem to make any sense at all, she had thought that she knew him. By finding her mother’s journal, Clara had lost that confidence.

“I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you,” John replied with a shrug, saying these words as if they should have been obvious to her. “I can’t help it. It’s part of who I am, who I was cursed to be. To fall in love over and over again and to have my heart broken with every rejection. I’ll carry that love with me until the day the world ends.”

His words seemed to shoot straight into her heart and Clara realised that she had already known because, in a way, it was the same for her even though it was completely different. They were bound together by the curse and suddenly, it didn’t really seem like a curse at all to her. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it had all been supposed to lead to exactly this. However, there was one little detail Clara just couldn’t ignore, one detail she couldn’t quite forgive just yet.

“And yet you didn’t trust me,” she said. “You kept this from me even though we talked about it so many times. You were afraid to tell me. Why?”

In response, John cleared his throat. “Like I said, I didn’t want you to feel obligated to do something you don’t want to do.”

“Nonsense!” Clara replied harshly. “Maybe that was part of the reason, but not all. Please, be honest with me just this once.”

He inhaled deeply, sucking the breath in between his teeth. “Alright, fine,” he said with a surrendering gesture. “I was scared. I told your mother and she left. She never came back. I only ever saw her once again when you were little and I didn’t want that to happen again. I just wanted to hold on to the last bit of hope I had for a while longer because as long as you didn’t say no, I still had that. I still had hope. Even after centuries, even though I really tried, I could never quite give that up.”

Clara nodded slowly, but her mind was still in turmoil and she couldn’t make a decision now, not while John was looking at her like that. But when his eyes grew sadder, she knew that she had to give him something.

“I haven’t said no yet,” Clara told him gently, “but I need to be alone right now.”

John’s shoulders sank a little further, but he gave a quick nod, indicating that he had understood before he slowly turned around and headed back to where he had come from, straight through the wall and out into the night.

 

Clara’s heart felt heavy as he left, but she knew that she needed time to consider her options, time to think it through before making a decision she might come to regret. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she had never noticed the other person who had joined them and was now exclaiming loudly:

“I knew it!”

Clara spun around and finally noticed Robert, his face pale as if he had just seen a ghost and that was when she realised that he had. He had seen enough and her heart sank even further.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your sweet comments :) Oh dear, looks like Clara has to make a decision sooner rather than later...

Clara stared at Robert for a long time, her mind refusing to come to terms with what had just happened, but there was no way for her to deny the truth now. Robert had seen enough. He had seen John - the Hunter in his tattered clothes, wearing the impressive set of antlers on his head - walk through her bedroom wall as if it was nothing. Maybe he had even overheard their conversation. Whatever Robert knew, it certainly seemed to be enough, judging by the anger she was reading from his face.

“I knew you were in league with him!” Robert spat at her in an accusatory tone, the disdain all too audible in his voice. “It all makes sense now!”

When he paused to catch his breath, the shock of seeing the ghostly figure obviously taking its toll, Clara saw her chance and she took it. “I can explain,” she said in an attempt to calm him. “What you saw, it’s not what you think it is.”

“I saw you with him the night he tried to kill me,” Robert replied. He had composed himself as if an eerie sense of calm had finally settled over him along with the horrible realisation. “I thought I had imagined it, but I remember now. I saw you kiss him!”

The corners of his mouth distorted in a grimace and a look of disgust appeared on his face. In response, Clara felt her hands wander towards her hips and she pushed herself up on her toes to seem a little bit more impressive even though she knew that the attempt was futile. Yet she couldn’t just let Robert insult John in such a manner.

“That night you say you were almost killed?!” she barked back at him. “I saved your life! I convinced John to let you go and he did!”

“John?!” he demanded to know.

Clara nodded determinedly. “That’s his real name. John Smith. And he was the one who built this house we’re both standing in right now. This is his estate and his forest and you had no right to do what you did!”

“You call this abomination by its name?! It is a monster!”

“You have no right calling him a monster after you barged into his forest with every intention to kill!” Clara yelled at him, taking a step closer. Robert had started the argument, but Clara was angry enough now to see it through. “I tried to stop you, remember? I tried to warn you in every way that I could and yet you insisted on doing something so stupid! You brought this on yourself and just so you know, I didn’t stop John to save you. I wanted to save him!”

Robert stared blankly at her, but as Clara met his gaze, she realised that her words continued to fall on deaf ears. He didn’t understand it and he wouldn’t stop. As he looked at her, Clara could still see the hatred in his eyes that drove him to want to kill John no matter what she said to him.

A sigh of relief almost escaped her lips when the door to her bedroom opened once again and her father appeared in the doorway, his hair dishevelled and his morning robe only loosely swung over his pyjamas.

“What on earth is this ruckus all about?” he wanted to know as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Clara and Robert and probably woken the entire house during their fight.

Yet just as Clara was about to explain everything to her father, Robert turned to face him and raised his index finger towards Clara.

“Your daughter associates with the beast that tried to kill me! She is in league with the Hunter! He is real and I just caught him in her room!”

For a moment, her father merely stared at her, but slowly, the wrinkles on his forehead started to crease as the words were beginning to sink in. Then, he burst into laughter.

“He is not a beast!” Clara argued. Even though she probably could have gotten away with it, even though her father hadn’t believed Robert, she had no reason to keep it a secret now, especially if Robert was going to take his revenge on John. “The Hunter is cursed. He was human once just like I am, just like you are, and he can be human again. John is a decent man and I’m going to protect him from the likes of him.”

Clara nodded towards Robert, now throwing the same disdainful look back at him that he had previously given her.

Slowly but surely, the laughter died and Clara watched the smile fade from her father’s face when he realised that they were both being serious. She hadn’t wanted him to find out like that, maybe she hadn’t even wanted him to find out at all, but now that the truth was finally out, Clara knew it couldn’t have been any other way. Her father needed to know the truth - as did Robert.

“The Hunter is a myth,” David Oswald argued weakly as if trying to hang on to that illusion for a while longer.

Yet Clara shook her head. “Mum knew that he was real. She wrote about it in her diary. And John certainly isn’t a beast. I love him.”

As soon as she spoke those words, Clara realised for the very first time how true they were. She had tried to play it down, tried to ignore what she was really feeling, but she had loved him from the very first they talked. It didn’t make her fear go away and it didn’t make her decision any easier, but the decision came with the realisation. She loved John, so there was only one thing for her to do.

Yet Robert’s scoffing tore her out of her private thoughts. “She’s under his spell, he put a curse on her!” the young man spat. “I don’t know how else she would say such a thing.”

“Because it’s true!” Clara argued loudly.

“What’s true is that I will put a bullet through him and release you from the spell he’s put on you!” Robert growled, the anger all too audible in his voice. “He is real, which means he has killed innocent people and he tried to kill me! Someone needs to put a stop to that! I will not let that beast threaten this forest any longer!”

“Enough!” her father suddenly shouted and the volume of his voice silenced them both. “Nobody is killing anyone tonight! You two will go to bed and we’ll talk about this tomorrow like normal people!”

Clara wanted to open her mouth and protest once again, she wanted to tell her father how wrong Robert was and how she would never let anything happen to John, but Robert beat her to it.

He turned his head towards her father and nodded in agreement. “I think that is a very good plan,” Robert said, his voice calmer now, but there was still a fierceness in it that told Clara it would take a lot more to convince him to let John go.

Not that she needed to do that. Clara would marry John and break the Hunter’s curse. Then, they would go away to where no one would ever find them, not even Robert and his hunger for revenge. Yet as Clara looked at her father, she felt a twinge of guilt. How was she ever going to explain that to him without breaking his heart?


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, guys :) Yes, Robert is an idiot, but in a way, he helped Clara make a decision...

The Hunter had buried his hope that Clara would come to see him any time soon after the disaster of last night, yet something still made him go out to the edge of the forest to watch the shadows in the house through the windows. There was a strange vibe emitting from his old home, one that he couldn’t quite place and after a while, the Hunter considered the possibility that he was imagining it because there was no way he could know what was really going on inside these walls and his mind was trying to fill the blanks. What surprised him, however, was the small shape that appeared in front of the house as soon as the lights went out and started to approach him across the meadow. His heart skipped a beat, but he swiftly reminded himself not to get his hopes up. Judging from her reaction last night, Clara didn’t come with good news for him.

Still, he couldn’t quite hide the joy he felt over her return when Clara had finally reached him and a smile appeared on his lips. “Hi,” he whispered carefully.

Clara didn’t return the smile. She was still panting from the brisk walk and when she looked up at him, there was an anger on her face that he didn’t quite understand. If she was still mad at him, then why had she come back? Was it to say goodbye for good? From one moment to the next, the Hunter felt his heart sink into his boots.

“How does it work?” Clara demanded to know, skipping the greeting altogether and coming straight to the point.

What that point was, however, the Hunter wasn’t sure, so he raised his eyebrows in question. “How does what work?”

“The ceremony,” she went on, her voice oddly sharp and hurried as if she just wanted to get this conversation over with. Something definitely wasn’t right. “How do we get married to free you from this curse?”

At first, he didn’t quite understand what was going on, whether it was curiosity that made her ask or genuine interest, so he kept frowning at her for a while longer. Yet when Clara didn’t elaborate, the Hunter decided to fill her in on the details - which he didn’t exactly have either.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I mean, my curse seems to be tied to the new moon somehow, so I think the best chance for me to remain human after the moon has set is to get married on a new moon night. It might work on any other night, though, I can’t say.”

“I’ll do it,” Clara blurted out as soon as he had finished.

The statement took him by surprise and that spark of hope instantly came back to life, filling him with a joy he couldn’t remember ever experiencing since the curse. John was going to be free and he was going to spend the rest of his human life with Clara by his side. Right now, it seemed like everything he had ever wanted and he took a moment to picture it, to imagine him and Clara in that house, growing old together surrounded by children and grandchildren, but the vision was soon tainted as he looked into Clara’s face. She didn’t seem remotely happy at all, so the Hunter knew what to answer.

“No,” he replied sternly.

Clara frowned at him in confusion. “No?” she demanded to know. “I just said I’ll do it. I’ll free you from the curse. Isn’t that what you wanted?”  
It was and it wasn’t - both things at the same time.

Gently, the Hunter reached out and placed his hands on Clara’s arms, wrapping his fingers tightly around them to feel their warmth. Naturally, Clara would agree to it. It couldn’t have been any other way because she was both the first and the last. She was the first woman he had been able to touch in centuries, the first woman he had been with since that damned curse, and the last woman who could release him from it.

“I love you,” the Hunter admitted once again. He hadn’t said that to anyone before Clara, he wasn’t sure he had felt something like that before her. “And I don’t want you to marry me out of obligation when it’s something you’re clearly dreading. I’d rather stay cursed than to see you unhappy.”

Somehow, these words changed something in her and for the first time tonight, the corners of her mouth twitched and her face took on a more serene expression even though it wasn’t quite a smile yet. Had he actually managed to say the right thing for the very first time in his life?

“Before I knew how to break the curse, I told you I would help you in any way I can so that we could go away together. That sort of implied us having a relationship,” Clara said. Again, there was a half-smile on her lips. “It’s true, marriage wasn’t what I had in mind just yet, but my mother said something in her diary that made me think. She was scared of marrying my father because she didn’t feel ready, but she thought it was the right thing to do. Well, I don’t feel ready, but I know for sure that it’s the right thing. I’m not doing it out of obligation. I’m doing it because I have hope that everything is going to be alright.”

Still, the Hunter arched up his eyebrows. He just needed to be certain. “Are you absolutely sure?” he wanted to know and uttered a nervous laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful and I’m happy, but I need to know that you want this.”

Clara nodded softly. “Yes,” she replied and before the Hunter could say another word, she raised her hands and reached for his face, pulling him down to meet her in a kiss.

Yet as their lips met, the Hunter got an inkling of something. It was only a brief glimpse, hard to understand, hard to decipher before Clara locked him out of her thoughts. It was enough to make him question whether her hope was justified.

After so many centuries, could it really be alright after a vow was exchanged? The Hunter wanted to hope just as much as Clara did, but he wasn’t sure he could.

* * *

Even though she felt good about her decision to help John break his curse, Clara couldn’t quite shake the feeling of dread as she walked through town towards the little church at its centre. Maybe she should have told John about the danger they were both in, maybe she should have mention Robert and plans to kill him, but she wasn’t sure what else it would accomplish other than to spread panic and fear. The Hunter couldn’t be killed except on a new moon night and if everything went according to plan, the next new moon would be the last for the Hunter. After the ceremony, they would disappear and never return as long as Robert was close.

Her father would be disappointed and sad, but he didn’t believe her. Even as Robert had gone on about wanting to kill the Hunter and Clara had explained to him what was really going on, her father hadn’t believed it. He probably thought she had lost her mind and he would be of no help in stopping Robert. Running away with John was the only option she had left. However, there was one last obstacle yet to overcome.

The old vicar sat at his desk when Clara entered his office and he looked up and greeted her with the kind, friendly smile of a cleric. He had no idea just what Clara was going to ask of him and she wasn’t sure how to ask, but on her way to the church she had decided to omit some of the details about the groom, so when the vicar asked what he could do for her, Clara told him a brief story about how her family didn’t approve of her love and she wanted to get married in secret in the middle of the night. The cleric’s eyebrows were raised further at the mention of the forest and the new moon night.

“And you can’t talk to your family about this?” he asked as if wanting to be sure.

Clara shook her head. “If they find out, they will do anything they can to stop the wedding. I’m afraid they might hurt the groom.”

Slowly, the vicar nodded in an understanding manner. “This is quite unorthodox,” he admitted. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait until your family has… calmed down a little?”

“No, it has to be on that exact day,” Clara insisted. “At night. Exactly where we first met.”

When the vicar uttered a sigh, Clara knew that she had won. She had managed to convince him. Now, the wedding could take place.

 

On her way back home, Clara felt a little better about herself and yet, the worry wouldn’t quite leave her alone. What if Robert still found a way to hurt John? The dread followed her around and on several occasions, she turned around, sure that someone was actually following her, but she quickly dismissed the idea. It was a silly thought and once she had determined that, she noticed something else.

Clara had come to a halt right next to a small tailor shop with a wedding dress in the window. The gown itself was gorgeous and Clara took a moment to picture herself in it, walking down a path laid with leaves to marry John, but she pushed the thought aside, half regretting that their wedding wouldn’t be a romantic one.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you for all the sweet comments :) Now, the wedding day is upon up... but what will it bring?

Clara had entirely forgotten about the butterflies she had felt in her stomach on her wedding day when she had walked down the aisle to meet Danny, but she was quickly reminded of them as she stood in front of her wardrobe that evening to select a dress for her second wedding, half regretting not having bought a proper bridal gown before. Even as she put on a white summer dress under her warm coat, Clara couldn’t help but think how strange it all felt, how surreal. She thought about her mother and her doubts before her wedding, she thought about how she hadn’t been certain about wanting to marry Danny - only this time, it was infinitely stranger. Clara hardly knew John and yet she loved him, but a part of her was afraid that this feeling would fade along with the curse that bound John to his Hunter form and to her. Even though she had the power of releasing him, maybe, in doing so, she was dooming them both to a fate much worse. However, the alternative was Robert and the danger he posed to them both and that wasn’t a feasible option.

Once she had put on her clothes, Clara looked in the mirror one last time and drew a sharp breath. She had made a promise and she was going to keep it despite her fear and sense of dread that had followed her every single night since Robert had caught them together. It would all be over soon, Clara told her herself with a reassurance glance towards her packed bags. Tonight, they would go where the dread couldn’t follow.

 

As agreed, the vicar waited by the line of trees where she usually met with John in the early morning and he wore on his face that Clara couldn’t quite interpret. Maybe, he was feeling the exact same kind of dread, but he still managed to greet her with a smile which Clara only saw as he raised the lantern.

“Are you ready?” he asked and Clara nodded reassuringly.

Together, they walked further into the forest to where she would meet John, the exact spot he had shown her during their first night together. Clara remembered that strange evening well even though the air was colder now as they were closing in on Christmas. Just as she thought about that, a snowflake landed on her nose and melted upon contact.

“Can I ask you a question?” the vicar said after a while, his voice soft and kind. Clara had always admired that about clergymen. They seemed to know exactly what to say and how to say it.

“Of course,” she replied. “What is it?”

She waited as the vicar inhaled deeply as if he was still pondering how to phrase his question. When it came out of his mouth at last, it took Clara by surprise.

“Who is going to protect the forest when the Hunter is gone?”

Clara opened her mouth in response, but as she realised she didn’t know what to say, she closed it again. How did he know?

The vicar chuckled softly. “I’ve lived here all my life. I know all the old folk tales and I talk to a lot of people,” he went on to explain. “When you came into my office, I wasn’t sure what to think of your story at first, but the longer I thought about your situation, the clearer it became to me. You’re going to release the Hunter from his curse, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, yes,” Clara admitted. Somehow, she felt relieved that the vicar knew. It was as if he had taken half the burden off her shoulders, preparing to share it.

“So,” the vicar continued, “who is going to watch over the forest if you leave? When the Hunter is gone, people will be hesitant at first, but they’ll go back to hunting in the forest and cutting off trees.”

His concern took Clara by surprise. She hadn’t even considered that.

“If we stay, John is in danger,” she replied truthfully. “Robert, the man that was injured by the Hunter a while ago, he’s dead set on killing him.”

 

They had no time to continue their conversation as Clara looked ahead and spotted John’s silhouette ahead of them. Her heart lit up when she saw the familiar figure, this time without his antlers and she had almost chuckled when she realised that she was going to miss the sight of them just a little bit. It was a strange thing to find upon a human’s head, but she had grown to love the look of them over time just as she had grown to love John. Suddenly, her fears and worries faded a little and were taken over by the butterflies again. When the vicar stayed back, Clara stepped forward to greet John with a bright smile. She was going to marry him and for the first time since making that decision, it seemed real.

“Hey,” she whispered nervously and when she had reached him, she finally noticed the suit he was wearing. Clara couldn’t say where he had got it from, but she certainly wore it well. “You’ve done yourself up.”

John chuckled in return. “You know, wedding day,” he replied. “Kind of a big thing.”

“Yeah,” Clara breathed, still beaming at him. She couldn’t tell how she had doubted her decision before, but right now, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. “We should probably hurry before the sun comes up.”

The vicar couldn’t be convinced to perform the ceremony after sunset and had insisted that he was more of a morning person, but it also meant that they didn’t quite have as much time. Yet while Clara was still smiling at John, his features grew a little more serious.

“Are you sure about this?” John wanted to know, throwing her a questioning look. “This is your last chance to turn back.”

“Never,” Clara replied, for the first time actually feeling the truth in her words. She was going to marry him for better or for worse and there was nothing she wanted more than that right now.

The vicar seemed to have sensed the conclusion of their conversation and stepped closer. He admired John for a moment, probably picturing what he looked like as the Hunter if he hadn’t seen that with his own eyes already. Clara wasn’t sure about that.

“Shall we begin?” he asked.

Both Clara and John nodded and the vicar straightened his shoulders as if to prepare himself for a speech.

“We are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holy matrimony,” he began, his voice taking on a more festive tone.

Clara glanced towards John and felt her heart skip a beat when she once again realised that he would be hers in a matter of moments. They were so close and right now, she realised that she couldn’t possibly be happier. She was going to break his curse, freeing him for the fate of loneliness and in return, she would receive a second chance at finding true love. He reached out to take her hands.

“Do you take this woman to be your wife?” the vicar asked.

Before he responded, John turned to look at her as well and he smiled so lovingly that it warmed her heart. “I, John, take thee, Clara, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

The vicar turned to her and Clara and she felt her hands tremble in John’s grasp.

“And do you take this man to be your husband?”

Clara opened her mouth, ready to say her vow, to repeat everything John had just said, but a noise rang through the night and tore the air apart. It took her too long to realise what was happening and by the time she had heard the gunshot, Clara already noticed the blood staining John’s shirt right before he hit the ground and his hand slipped from her own.

 _“No!_ ” Clara shouted instinctively and from one moment to the next, the reservations she had still had vanished because she realised there was a fate worse than marrying John. It was a life without him.

She sank on her knees next to him, hardly aware of Robert who had intruded on their ceremony. Her whole focus was directed at John and she reached for his hand again, desperately trying to hold on to him before he could slip from her grasp.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him even though she didn’t believe it for a second. There was too much blood and his shirt had turned almost completely red. “We’re going to call a doctor. You’re going to be fine.”

She needed to believe it. She needed to hold on to that last bit of hope because there was no alternative for her.

When John finally opened his eyes to look at her, a sad smile appeared on his face. “It’s too late,” he whispered.

“No, don’t say that!” she told him strictly. “You have to live!”

Softly, he scoffed, but the smile remained. “You look beautiful tonight,” he said quietly before his body vanished as if it had never been there in the first place.

As she looked up, Clara noticed the sun appearing between the trees and a spark of hope returned. John’s curse had just saved his life.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the naughty cliffhanger - but am I really? :D Thank you for all the lovely comments!

“You’ve no idea what you’ve done!”

Clara had only just realised that it was Robert who had fired his weapon and before she could stop herself, she stood right in front of him, pushing him back with as much strength as she could muster.

“But guess what? Your plan failed!” she yelled at him, shoving the surprised man once more. “John is immortal! All you’ve done is to make him angry!”

She had to say it to believe it herself. In her heart, Clara knew that Robert had hit him harder than any of them could have anticipated and she prayed for John to be alright, for the curse to save his life just this once. The sun had come up. John was once again the Hunter and the Hunter couldn’t die. She had to hold on to this belief.

“He’s a monster!” Robert barked back at her. “And you were about to _marry_ that thing!”

“Call him a thing one more time and I swear to God, I will-”

“That’s enough, I think,” a kind and yet determined voice spoke and a moment later, the vicar placed himself between Clara and Robert so as not to let their fight escalate. “Both of you will need to calm down now.”

Clara didn’t want to calm down, she wanted to yell at Robert, she wanted to take his rifle and drive him out of this town for good, but as she glanced at the weapon, the cleric obviously sensed her thoughts and took the rifle out of Robert’s hands.

“I think you’ve done enough damage here tonight, young man,” the vicar said. There was judgement in his tone, Clara didn’t miss that.

“You don’t know what that thing is!” Robert hissed between his teeth, staring viciously at Clara as he said those words. He was obviously prepared to say some more, but the vicar interrupted him before he had a chance.

“I’ve known the Hunter since I was a little child and I know that he has done more for this village and the forest than you can ever hope to achieve in your lifetime,” the vicar said, his voice calm and even. “Weapons have no place in this area and it seems that tonight, you’ve made more than just one enemy. Do you want a word of advice?”

Robert merely glared at him in response and Clara felt the urge to say something, but she was also curious about what the cleric had to say to him. Obviously, he was on her side.

“Leave,” the vicar said simply. “Pack your bags. Today. And never come back. Your life won’t be safe once the villagers hear what you’ve done.”

The corners of his mouth twitched and just by looking at him, Clara could tell that he was fuming - but he was also considered the cleric’s words. Carefully.

“Do what he says,” Clara told him sternly. “Because I will tell everyone what happened here tonight. When my father hears, you’ll no longer be welcome under his roof.”

Robert huffed angrily and hesitated for a moment, but then Clara watched him turn around and stomp off towards the house. Somehow, she knew that he would heed the vicar’s advice and that, in a few hours, she would finally be rid of him. At last, she took a deep breath and sighed.

“You should go home, too.” The cleric’s voice tore her out of her serenity. “It’s been a long night and I assume you’ll need your strength for the days to come.”

Slowly, Clara nodded and she was beginning to feel the heaviness in her bones as well as the cold that was beginning to seep through her dress. This evening had started out as the best night of her life and now, Clara wasn’t sure whether it wouldn’t be worst.

“We need to finish the ceremony,” she said almost absent-mindedly. “I need to marry John if it’s the last thing I do.”

When the vicar placed his hand on her shoulder, Clara could feel the warmth even through her jacket. “You have my support,” he said kindly. “But there is nothing either of us can do tonight. Go home. Get some rest.”

Even though she knew that he was right, the vicar had to lead Clara’s way because the exhaustion was beginning to take control. When at last, she had reached the house and slipped under the covers of her warm bed, Coco joined to warm her, but her pet couldn’t keep away the nagging thoughts or the nightmares that ultimately came, disturbing her rest with one dreadful question: what if Robert had managed to kill John after all?

* * *

When Clara woke up from her restless sleep at last, Robert was gone. She wasn’t entirely sure that he had actually left until her father confirmed the suspicion his empty room had raised by handing her the note he had left behind.

“Family emergency,” Clara muttered under her breath, half scoffing at the blatant lie as she put the note back down.

“Must have happened in the middle of the night,” her father reasoned, not even putting his newspaper aside for a second. “I never heard him leave.”

Clara merely nodded, but even though she was relieved to find him gone, her heart still felt heavy at the thought of what had really transpired last night. He had shot and wounded John and until the sun set, Clara wouldn’t know whether he was truly alright. Even though his curse bound him to this place and as the Hunter, he was immortal, there was still a little hint of doubt, a little hint of fear that there was a still a way for John to die.

The wait until sundown seemed endless and when at last, everyone in the house had gone to sleep, Clara wasted no time to throw on her coat and head outside into the cold winter night.  
There was a strange feeling in the air tonight and somehow, Clara thought the forest was noisier than it had been before. She could hear the owls and the shuffling in the undergrowth caused by foxes and everything else that hadn’t gone into hibernation. Yet there was no sign of John at their usual spot. With a deep breath, Clara willed herself to move on, determined not to let her fear take over as she ventured deeper into the forest to find him. He had to be somewhere.

But what if he wasn’t? What if Robert had managed to kill him and she had lost her second husband before she was even able to say the vows? No, Clara couldn’t think like that, but the emptiness in the forest seemed to surround her like a dark shroud.

Then, she finally spotted him.

John was resting on a fallen tree near the spot where last night’s events had taken place and when he heard her, he looked up and granted her a smile. Clara’s heartbeat quickened. He wasn’t dead. Everything was going to be alright.

“I’m so sorry,” Clara whispered immediately as soon as she had reached him. She sank down next to him and reached for his hand, but as their skin touched, she soon realised that he felt even colder than he usually did.

“It’s not your fault,” John reassured her kindly. “You couldn’t have known.”

Clara looked at him with a scrutinising glance, but his wound was nowhere to be seen. If it was still there - and she assumed that it was - he had hidden it under his battered uniform. Despite the fact that he was still alive, Clara felt the old worry creep back into her head because there was something about him that didn’t seem right at all.

She frowned at him. “Are you alright?” Clara wanted to know.

In response, John smiled at her. “I’m the Hunter. And as such, I can’t die,” he replied and yet, there was an unusual hoarseness to his voice that made his words sound like a lie

“You don’t sound alright,” she argued warily.

John had a history of not telling her the truth, so she wasn’t entirely sure she could believe him.

Yet the smile remained on his lips as he folded his palms around her hand, squeezing it softly. “Give me a break, I’ve just been shot,” he joked, but Clara didn’t find it the least bit amusing. When John noticed, his face finally took on a more serious expression. “I’m weakened, I can feel the wound, but I’m not dead. In a way, my curse saved me.”

Clara wanted so much to believe him, but she couldn’t. So instead of talking, she leaned her head against John’s shoulder and remained quiet for a long time. If necessary, she would stay in exactly this spot until dawn.

“We’re gonna try again,” she promised him. “One way or another, we’ll get married and free you from the curse.”

* * *

The red light of dawn had already started to tinge the house in a red hue when Clara walked back into her room, but she was surprised to find someone already waiting for her.

“Martha,” Clara blurted out, completely taken aback by the maid’s sudden appearance. “What are you doing here?”

Martha’s kind smile felt like a knife to the heart. It had taken all of Clara’s strength to refrain from crying on the way back because a part of her knew what was happening. John was dying. And every night she went out to see him might be the last. Kindness was the one thing that might push her over the edge.

“I saw you through the window,” Martha explained softly. “You’ve been to see the Hunter, haven’t you?”

And just like that, the tears came like an unstoppable force. And just like her tears, the words bubbled from her mouth and she told Martha everything that had happened ever since she had met John. The maid listened intently and placed her arm around Clara’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“I’m going to lose him,” Clara sobbed mercilessly. There was no way even the Hunter could survive this. She knew it. She just knew.

Yet when she looked at Martha, the maid was still smiling. “Well, there’s only one thing you can do, is there?” she asked.

Clara frowned at her in response, not understanding what Martha was talking about. “What do you mean?”

However, as Martha continued to smile, Clara felt as if her hope was being rekindled. If there was still a chance to save John, she would do whatever needed to be done.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *big hug for the lovely comments* I know you're all very worried about John/The Hunter, but will Clara be able to save him in time?

The Hunter groaned, a completely involuntary sounds that just came from his mouth as he reached into his shoulder and, at last, pulled the bullet from his skin. The pain, though still present, subsided the moment he let go and the Hunter exhaled sharply, happy to finally be free of this damned piece of metal. Maybe it would only speed up the process of dying, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t spend another minute with the bullet still inside of him.

“You should tell her the truth,” his feathery companion hooted from a nearby branch.

The Hunter looked up and growled at him. “And tell her what? That I’m going to die? That it doesn’t matter whether I’m Hunter or human, I’ll die either way?”

He scoffed. All those times he had wished for death to come and take him, to release him from his existence, death had denied him that. Now, he could feel the coldness creeping up on him, slowly engulfing him until it pulled him down into the depths of hell. There was no saving him from that.

“She deserves to know the truth.”

The Hunter felt his heart sink. No, Clara deserved better than that. Clara deserved to be happy. “She already lost one husband,” he argued. “If she marries me, I’ll be human and die and if she doesn’t, I’ll eventually fade away. I can feel it.”

“You’re not going to die.”

The Hunter spun around, the sudden movement almost tearing his wound apart. When he spotted Clara, he swiftly reached for his uniform jacket and closed it, preventing Clara from seeing the dreadful reality of his injury.

Yet as he looked at her, the Hunter couldn’t help but frown. Just as she had on their intended wedding night, Clara was wearing a white dress underneath her coat and she hadn’t come alone. Behind her, stood another figure of a woman who only slowly stepped closer. The Hunter had seen her through the windows of his old house and eventually recognised the maid. However, before he had a chance to say anything or to ask the question that was on his mind, Clara stepped closer and took his hands.

“You’re not going to die,” she promised him sternly. “I won’t let you.”

Finally, the Hunter managed to smile. “I believe if there was something you could do about it, you would. But-”

“No but,” Clara replied. There was a frown creasing her forehead as she hesitated for a long moment. At last, she inhaled deeply. “I love you. I never said it before, but I will from now on. Every single day. I’m going to marry you tonight.”

Even though he heart skipped a beat upon hearing those words, the Hunter felt the heaviness return as the darkness tugged at his sleeves. “If I became human now, I might die.”

“You will if you don’t,” Clara argued. “I’ve already sent for the doctor and he will be here shortly. You just have to make it until then.”

The Hunter took a deep breath and considered his options. He certainly didn’t want to die, especially if there was a chance for him and Clara to be together, but the last thing he wanted was to die right here, in her arms, on their wedding nights. But if he made it, all of his dreams would come true…

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life without you,” she said softly and the Hunter felt her squeeze his hand. “This is the only chance we have.”

One last time, the Hunter decided to have hope. He nodded.

When Clara smiled at him, the maid stepped closer and he watched her pull four long, white ribbons from out of her pocket. It was a little old-fashioned, a little unusual, but he didn’t mind because if their marriage was anything, it was completely out of the ordinary and somehow, it seemed a lot more fitting than whatever the vicar had had in mind. As the Hunter and Clara stood there in the forest, Clara’s hand firmly in his, the maid came to a halt next to them.

The Hunter inhaled deeply and smiled at his beautiful bride. At last, the maid raised her voice.

“Will you honour and respect one another and seek to never break that honour?”

“We will,” they replied in unison and the Hunter heard her giggle softly as the maid placed the first ribbon on their wrists.

“Will you share each other’s pain and seek to ease it?”

The Hunter had almost forgotten about his pain, so as far as he was concerned, Clara was already easing his.

“We will.”

The second ribbon was gently laid next to the first.

“Will you share the burdens of each so that your spirits may grow in this union?” the maid asked.

“We will.”

There was an odd sensation on his skin when the maid placed the third ribbon in perfect alignment with the others and it was almost as if he could feel the Hunter dropping away.

“Will you share each other’s laughter, and look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?”

“We will,” both confirmed with a smile.

At that, the maid placed the fourth ribbon over their wrists and started joining them together in a knot. The Hunter waited patiently, all the while ignoring the tingling emitting from Clara’s had and the odd feeling of the curse slowly dissolving. Whatever they were doing, it was working. In the end, each of them held one end of the collection of ribbons in their left hand.

“John and Clara, as your hands are bound together now, so your lives and spirits are joined in a union of love and trust. Above you are the stars and below you is the earth. Like the stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, a firm foundation from which to grow.”

Slowly, each of them pulled at their end, freeing their hands of the ribbons that came together in a perfect infinity knot. When the ritual had ended, Clara pushed herself up on tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his mouth, but the moment their lips touched, the Hunter suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. The intensity of it brought him to his knees.

It wasn’t just the wound. Suddenly, it was as if his whole body was on fire and every cell in his body was being rewritten, changed.

“John!” Clara called out and landed on her knees right next to him. Between the pain and whatever was happening to him, he noticed that their hands were still touching. “Just hold on a few moments longer.”

“Over here!” he heard the maid shout towards the woods and soon, there were steps. The doctor had arrived.

He wasn’t entirely sure whether he would make it, but there was one thing he was certain of: John could feel the Hunter slowly fading away. He was human again.


	36. Chapter 36

_5 Years Later_

There was a certain sense of serenity Clara always felt when she looked out on the meadow, but this morning, it was a special sight. A doe had come out to graze among the luscious green and her three-year-old son in his undying curiosity, had gone out to take a closer look at the animal. Maybe it was because they lived so close to the forest and at some point, the animals had lost their fear of humans that the doe allowed it - or maybe it was a special gift that had been passed on by the boy’s father. Either way, both child and animal seemed to properly enjoy getting to know each other.

Several years ago, the local vicar had told Clara that the forest needed protection and she hadn’t really realised why that was until this morning. This forest was a refuge. It was a place where plants could grow undisturbed and animals could live without the fear of being hunted. Seeing her son and the doe so at ease with each other was all the confirmation she needed to know that they were doing it right.

Suddenly, both the animal and her child were gone from view and her word plunged into darkness as a hand covered her eyes. Clara started to chuckle. She had been wondering when he would wake up at last.

“Happy anniversary,” John said and placed a kiss on her cheek, obviously referring to the proper wedding after his recovery and not the secret ceremony that had bound them together in the middle of the night. 

She giggled in response. “I think we already celebrated that last night,” Clara said in amusement.

Still, John was hiding something behind his back and as he moved his hand into view, Clara spotted a single red rose that she knew had probably come from the flower bed in front of the house, but it was the thought that counted. In a swift movement, he placed it in the small vase that stood on the breakfast table. She wasn’t entirely sure when John had prepared it because when she had woken up, he was still fast asleep, but upon going downstairs, she had found the table already set.

All those doubts she had had before the wedding, all those fears and false promises of never wanting to marry again after her first loss - Clara now knew that they had been in vain and she felt incredibly grateful to have made that step regardless of all those worries. John wasn’t perfect, but that didn’t make him any less of an amazing husband and even her father had eventually accepted the strange match even though she was sure that he still didn’t fully understand. But the most important thing was that she loved him and their son with all her heart and both of them loved her in return. And Clara had a little surprise for him that she had kept specifically for their anniversary.

The door to the patio opened and when she turned her head, Clara saw that Martha was approaching their table with a tray of coffee and fresh rolls, Coco trailing after her in hope of treats. Clara wasn’t entirely sure when it had happened and she was sure that scraps of food were to blame for it, but her dog had eventually formed a very close bond to their maid.

“Thank you, Martha,” John said kindly as she sat the tray down on the table. “Looks great as always.”

“This smells delicious,” Clara agreed.

“There is also a letter from your father that arrived this morning,” the maid explained. “He says he would like to visit next weekend when he’s travelling to London.”

“Will he be bringing Linda?”

Martha smiled. “No, it’s just him.”

Next to her, John breathed a sigh of relief and Clara wanted to agree with him. One more thing they both had in common was the mutual dislike for her stepmother. However, none of them felt the need to point it out once again and while John called for their son to join them at the breakfast table, Martha excused herself and went back inside.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Clara said, biting down on her lip as she watched their son still play in the distance. He seemed to have no intention of leaving his newly made friend the doe.

John had reached for a coffee cup, but he instantly set it back down and raised his head to look at her. “That sounds serious,” he replied, the worry suddenly audible in his voice. “Is it serious?”

Clara smiled at him in reply. “If by serious you mean it’s going to change our lives and we have to free up another one of those many rooms in the house, then yes, it’s kind of serious.”

In response, John frowned at her and his reaction looked so adorable while he failed to comprehend what she was saying that Clara couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m with child, you idiot.”

It took another moment, but eventually, his feature lit up and a smile appeared on his face. It broadened with every second that passed.

“Did you just call the father of your children an idiot?” he asked.

Clara chuckled. “I did, idiot.”

In a swift movement, John leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to her lips. It was short but sweet and when he looked at her again, her husband was grinning broadly.

“I love you,” he said and even though she had probably heard it a million times, Clara thought she would never grow tired of the sound of those words.

“I love you, too,” she replied sincerely. Somehow, their love story seemed almost like a fairytale and this was their _happily ever after_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your kudos, comments and overall amazing support!!! I'm so glad you've all enjoyed reading this story because this is an idea that I had carried around for years before writing it down, so here's another big THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
> 
> I hope to see you all again for my next story called "Alibi" which I will post at some point in the not too distant future :)


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